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VALERIE DUVAL 

SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 


I 





‘The General pinned it reverently on the front of Valerie’s 
dress ’ ’ 


' 


(. Page 138) Frontispiece 


VALERIE DUVAL 

SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 


BY 

MARTHA TRENT 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

CHAS. L. WRENN 


NEW YORK 
BARSE & HOPKINS 
PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1918 
by 

Barse & Hopkins 


■ M 20 1 9 i 8 


©CI.A499393 





DEDICATED TO 

L* B. J • 




















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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I The Duvals . . . . , A & >j .. 

II The Americans . . . .. ... ... . 

III Pierre ....... ... . . ,. 

IV For France .... . . . . . 

Y At Riva .......... 

VI Rumors 

YII The Guns 

VIII A Stolen Ride ...... . . 

IX The Last Shell 

X The Rat Points the Way . . . . . 

XI The Boomerang ........ 

XII The Return to Riva 

XIII The Croix De Guerre ....... 

XIV With Pierre 

XV Two Letters . . . 

XVI At Fleurette ........ 

XVII News of Captain Webb 

XVIII Waiting for the Ambulances . . . 

XIX The Rescue 

XX A Thanksgiving in France . . . 

XXI The Turkey ..... v . . . 


PAGE 

11 

22 

32 

43 

51 

61 

69 

77 

86 

96 

106 

117 

130 

139 

149 

158 

168 

179 

191 

200 

210 





ILLUSTRATIONS 


‘The general pinned it reverently on the front of 
Valerie’s dress” Frontispiece 

PAGE 

‘Without a tremor of hesitation she snatched up the 
scissors and began to cut hurriedly” ... 47 

‘They started off slowly, Valerie going ahead and 
pointing out the shell holes ” 93 

‘Without thinking what she did, she picked up 
Lathrop’s revolver and fired at once” . . . Ill 




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I 1 * 






VALERIE DUVAL 


CHAPTER I 

THE DUVALS 

TALERIE, Valerie, the Americans are 
\/ here. Come quick !” Pierre Duval 
hurried, as fast as his crutches would 
permit, down the garden path. He was a fair- 
haired boy a little over seventeen, with big wistful 
blue eyes and a delicate face that contrasted oddly 
with his misshapen body. 

He paused halfway to the gate to shout again, 
“Valerie, do you hear me? Come! ,, 

“In a minute; don’t be so impatient,” a laugh- 
ing voice answered his, and a face appeared at one 
of the dormer windows above him. 

Valerie was Pierre’s younger sister, and his 

direct opposite. Her hair was dark, and her eyes 

had none of his wistfulness. Instead, they flashed 
11 


12 


VALERIE DUVAL 


a challenge to the whole world and indicated her 
dauntless spirit. The energy of her lithe, strong 
body showed in her quick movements. 

The simple village folk of Vinon, when they saw 
the two together, often shook their heads in sym- 
pathy for Madame Duval, and wondered why the 
good God had seen fit to give the girl the looks 
of a boy, and the boy the wistful eyes and sensi- 
tive features of a girl. 

“I am not impatient/ ’ Pierre replied, looking 
up at his sister, “but you are such a slow poke, it 
takes a charge of dynamite to get you started. 
Are you coming ?” 

“Yes, yes, yes.” The head disappeared from 
the window, and Valerie was soon on the path be- 
side her brother. 

“Here I am, — and now where are the Ameri- 
cans?” she demanded. “I don’t see them.” 

“Come with me.” Pierre led her to the gate 
and pointed down the hill. 

The Duvals’ house and farm was a little way 
out of the village and high on the crest of a hill; 
a winding road led up to it. As Pierre and Va- 


THE DUVALS 13 

lerie looked they saw three men coming towards 
them. 

‘ 4 Two are Americans, and one is a Frenchman. 
He will be the interpreter, I suppose,” Pierre 
laughed; “as if we need an interpreter to under- 
stand English!” 

Valerie nodded. “He will have a dusty walk 
for nothing, poor little man, but why are there 
only two Americans ? I thought from the way you 
shouted that the whole army had come. ’ ’ 

“Simpleton, an army does not suddenly arrive 
in a village at nine in the morning, and mark time 
in the square until their sleeping quarters are 
ready. Officers come first and arrange for the bil- 
lets,’ ’ Pierre explained. “Even I, a worthless 
cripple, know that.” 

Valerie saw the hurt look deepen in her broth- 
er’s eyes and hastened to change the subject. 

“If we are to billet American troops,” she said, 
“I think I had better go and find Mama. Do you 
know where she is V ’ 

“Yes, in the dairy trying to teach Lizette how to 
make butter; and grandpapa is in the orchard. 


14 VALERIE DUVAL 

If he sees the officers first he will offer to house 
the whole regiment.” 

Valerie laughed heartily. “You are right, I 
must fly to Mama.” She hurried off, and Pierre 
rested his crutches against the hedge and waited. 

When the three officers reached the gate, he 
stood as straight as he could and gave the mili- 
tary salute. The American officers returned it 
gravely, and the French interpreter stepped for- 
ward. 

“Good morning, Monsieur Duval,” he said po- 
litely, “may I present to you Captain Webb and 
Lieutenant Carey of the American Army. They 
have come to interview Madame, your mother, to 
ask her if she will be good enough to house some 
of their men.” 

Pierre let him finish without interrupting him, 
then he replied in English. 

“It is an honor to meet you, sir,” he saluted first 
the Captain and then the Lieutenant. “My 
mother will be here at once. Won’t you step in- 
side?” He pushed open the gate. 

“Well, here’s a piece of luck,” Captain Webb 


THE DUVALS 15 

laughed. ‘ ‘ Where did you learn to speak Eng- 
lish?^ 

“My grandmother was an American, sir,” 
Pierre replied proudly. 

“Good enough. That’s like finding an old 
friend,” Lieutenant Carey exclaimed, just as 
Madame Duval and Valerie appeared around the 

corner of the house. 

% 

They came to attention at once and saluted. 
“You will not need me, I take it, Madame,” the 
little Frenchman bowed and stepped to one side. 
“Your son tells us that you speak English.” 

Madame Duval smiled and nodded. She was 
a tall, capable-looking woman with a decided, but 
gracious manner. She was fair like her son, but 
her eyes had the same expression as her daugh- 
ter’s. 

“Thank you, Monsieur, I think I can manage 
without you.” She turned to the Captain. 
“What can I do for you? My place is, of course, 
at your disposal. We’ve three bedrooms to spare 
at the house, and the barn is empty. The Govern- 
ment took our last horse not long ago. The barn 


16 


VALERIE DUVAL 


is not very comfortable, but it ’s dry. * 9 She smiled 
and led the way towards the house. Valerie went 
ahead to open the door. 

“Did you say it was tough luck to have to ar- 
range for billets ? ’ ’ Captain W ebb inquired in an 
aside to his companion. “Well here’s where I 
show you how easy it is.” 

Lieutenant Carey nodded in satisfaction. 

“You don’t know how good it sounds to hear 
English again, Madame,” Captain Webb said as 
they walked towards the house. 

“I can imagine,” Madame laughed. “Ours, 
I’m afraid, is a little rusty, we speak so seldom. 
My father-in-law, Monsieur Duval, who lives with 
us, does not understand it, and so we speak French 
entirely among ourselves; but I try to make the 
children read English as much as possible.” 

She turned to Valerie. 

“This is my daughter, Captain Webb.” 

Valerie held out her hand. 

“How do you do, Captain,” she said shyly. 

“Delighted, I’m sure,” the Captain replied, 
“may I present Lieutenant Carey?” 


THE DUVALS 17 

4 ‘Valerie, take Lieutenant Carey around and 
show him the barn, will you — you and Pierre ?” 
her mother suggested; “perhaps that will save 
time, and I know you want to do that,” she smiled 
at the Captain. “I will show you the rooms.” 

She entered the broad doorway, and the Captain 
followed her up the narrow flight of stairs. 

The Duvals’ house was a large one, a low ram- 
bling building with big spacious rooms, comfort- 
able, but not at all pretentious. 

Valerie lead the way to the barn. 

“It is fun having you here,” she said to Lieu- 
tenant Carey, “we see so few soldiers.” 

“Well, we can certainly fix that for you by to- 
night,” the Lieutenant replied. “You’ll see so 
many that you’ll get tired of us.” 

“I don’t think so,” Valerie shook her head. 

“The only thing we get tired of, is doing the 
same thing day after day,” Pierre added. 
“France is at war, but up here on our hill we go 
on living the same as ever.” 

Lieutenant Carey was quick to notice the sad 
note in his voice. “Well, you’ll have plenty to do 


18 


VALERIE DUVAL 


to-morrow, ’ ’ he replied cheerfully. “You ’ll have 
to act as interpreter for the whole regiment.” 

“Here’s the barn,” Valerie pushed open the big 
sliding door before Lieutenant Carey could help 
her. “Will it suit?” she asked, smiling. 

“I should say so. Why, it’s a wonderful find. 
The boys will all be scrapping over who will stay 
here. Let’s see the floor space.” And the Lieu- 
tenant looked about him and nodded in approval. 

“And there’s a loft upstairs,” Pierre added, 
pointing to the ladder. 

“Thirty men easily, and in case some of the 
places in the village won’t do, we can put in more. 
There, that’s fine, now let’s go back to the house.” 
The Lieutenant wrote down something in a note 
book. 

“Will you stay here?” Pierre inquired. “At 
our house I mean?” he added eagerly. 

“I hope so,” Lieutenant Carey replied. “I 
most certainly hope so, — it’s the only comfortable 
spot I’ve seen since I arrived in France, and I’d 
hate to think I was not going to enjoy it person- 
ally. ’ ’ 


THE DUVALS 19 

Pierre’s face brightened. “I was afraid you 
would choose the Inn,” he said. 

When they reached the front of the house, 
Madame Duval and the Captain were waiting for 
them. Lieutenant Carey reported and they 
turned to leave. 

“I hope we will not bother you very much,” the 
Captain said. “You’ve been awfully good about 
it, but I know it must be a bother to have an army 
descend upon you, particularly when you are so 
busy. Do you run the farm yourself ?” 

Madame Duval nodded. 

“Yes, Captain Webb, I do,” she replied; “and 
I have run it ever since the death of my husband 
ten years ago. It is not very difficult in peace 
times when there are plenty to help, but it is 
hard just now; I have no one but girls and old 
women to work. Our France has called even the 
boys.” 

Captain Webb nodded. “I know,” he said 
quietly. 

Valerie glanced quickly at her mother, a sudden 
look of apprehension in her eyes. But Madame 


20 VALERIE DUVAL 

Duval did not see it, she was shaking hands with 
Lieutenant Carey. 

‘ ‘We will see you both to-night, I hope?” she 
inquired, ‘ 1 you say the regiment will arrive some- 
time this afternoon.” 

The Captain nodded. “Oh, you 11 see us,” he 
laughed. 1 ‘Nothing but sudden death, or an order 
from the Colonel will stop us. You see, we’ve de- 
cided to use the little Inn for Headquarters, be- 
cause it’s near the station, you understand — but 
the Colonel may have something to say on the sub- 
ject, if he sees your house first.” 

“We hope he won’t,” Madame replied gra- 
ciously, “we will be very disappointed if you don’t 
return to us.” 

The officers saluted, and with the interpreter 
started back on their way to the village. Pierre 
followed them to the garden gate, but Valerie, 
once their backs were turned, hurried into the 
house and flew up the stairs into her room. From 
the big fourposted bed she snatched up a number 
of garments, rolled them hastily into a bundle, and 
hid them in the third drawer of her dresser. 


THE DUVALS 


21 


“Phew, that was a narrow escape !” she said 
when the drawer was tight shut. “Thank good- 
ness I remembered to shut my door when Pierre 
called.’ ’ 


CHAPTER n 


THE AMERICANS 


T three o’clock that afternoon the little 



village of Vinon was a scene of bustle 


and confusion. The market-place was 


filled with laughing, jostling soldiers, and the in- 
habitants were rushing about excitedly. From 
the little town hall, an old building that had wit- 
nessed the arrival and departure of many troops, 
the tricolor and the stars and stripes floated side 
by side. 

Not since the fifth day of August three years be- 
fore, when the tocsin had sounded the call to arms 
had the people been so roused. They cheered the 
American troops as they had cheered their own 
boys; flowers were thrown from the windows of 
the little cottages, and four very old men, all that 
were left of the band, played the splendid strain 
of the Marseillaise. The Burgomaster made a 


22 


THE AMERICANS 23 

short, but enthusiastic welcome speech that lost a 
little in its hasty translation by the interpreter. 

The Americans viewed the setting prepared for 
them, and grinned good-naturedly. They were a 
little embarrassed at so much demonstration. 

A small basket cart, drawn by a fat little donkey 
stood at one side of the square, a little to the right 
of the town hall. In it were Pierre, his eyes bright 
with excitement, Valerie, and a little, thin old gen- 
tleman with snow-white hair, Monsieur DuvaL 
He wore three medals on his worn black coat, and 
his hands trembled as he passed his cigarette case 
among the soldiers. 

When the Mayor’s speech was over, the men 
were ordered to their billets, and again the good 
people of Vinon bustled about, this time in their 
own cottages, to make everything ready to receive 
their guests. 

Pierre watched the Colonel, followed by his 
staff, go into the Inn, and sighed with relief. 

“If he will only stay there,” he said, “we can 
be sure of our officers returning to us.” 

“There’s Lieutenant Carey now,” Valerie ex- 


24 VALEKIE DUVAL 

claimed , 1 1 and oh, do look at that giant he has with 
him!” 

“He sees us,” Pierre cried eagerly. “See, he 
is coming. ’ ’ 

A lane opened in the crowd of olive-drab uni- 
forms, and the lieutenant, followed by the “giant,” 
came towards the cart. 

“Well, here we are again,” he laughed as he 
shook Pierre’s hand, “and I think it’s safe to say 
that we will be with you. ’ ’ 

“This is Lieutenant Fielding, who is to share 
our good luck with us.” 

“Oh, Monsieur, you are so big!” Valerie mur- 
mured, forgetting herself for the moment, as she 
looked at the broad-shouldered man before her. 
Then she blushed. “I beg your pardon, I did not 
mean to be rude,” she exclaimed. 

“This is my grandfather, Monsieur Duval.” 

The old gentleman saluted gravely and replied 
in French. Valerie did her best to interpret his 
long sentence, then Captain Webb joined them, and 
the formalities were repeated. 

Lieutenant Carey left to lead the men who were 


THE AMERICANS 


25 


billeted in the Duvals’ barn, up the hill, but Cap- 
tain Webb and Lieutenant Fielding waited beside 
the donkey cart. They saw the men form into line, 
and at a command from Lieutenant Carey start off. 
Pierre picked up the reins, and the donkey, after a 
little coaxing, followed, the two officers keeping 
up with his slow pace, one on either side of the 
cart. 

In a few hours the men had made themselves 
quite at home on the Duval farm. The three offi- 
cers, their rooms in order, smoked contentedly on 
the brick terrace, while the privates, with the ex- 
ception of the unfortunate ones chosen for kitchen 
duty, lounged on the grassy slope of the hill and 
watched the sun set behind the church tower in the 
village below. 

Pierre, even in so short a time, had transferred 
his allegiance from the officers to the men. He sat 
on the ground beside them and watched them curi- 
ously. 

“What are you thinking about, Bud?” a big, 
tall Westerner inquired good-naturedly. 

Pierre shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing 


26 


VALERIE DUVAL 


much,” he replied sighing, but the expression of 
envy in his eyes, as he looked at the big men about 
him, made an explanation of his thoughts unneces- 
sary. 

The men were silent. Some of them glanced out 
of the corner of their eyes at Pierre’s twisted legs 
and felt suddenly uncomfortable. 

“Sing,” Pierre said at last, “that funny song 
you were singing in the square to-day, the one 
about ‘get your gun and run.’ ” 

The men laughed, and one of them struck up the 
familiar tune of “Over There.” 

On the terrace the officers joined in, and old 
Monsieur Duval kept time on the floor with his 
heavy cane. In the kitchen Valerie and her 
mother smiled as they worked. They were pre- 
paring their supper. Madame had insisted that 
her guests join them at table, and was making ex- 
tra dishes especially for them. She paused long 
enough to glance out of the window at the group 
on the lawn. 

“Pierre is in the very center of them,” she 
laughed to Valerie. 


THE AMERICANS 


27 

“Poor Pierre, it is so hard for him!” Valerie 
replied. “I do hope he won't have another of 
those blue fits. Sometimes I think if he would 
only say things — or get very angry, perhaps, in- 
stead of just sitting still and looking with those 
sad eyes, I wouldn't mind so much.” 

“I know,” her mother nodded, “he is very pa- 
tient. I do hope grandpapa does not start to talk 
to-night. When he begins about the bravery of the 
Duvals, I can see how it hurts Pierre to listen.” 

“Don't worry,” Valerie laughed. “I promise 
to talk so much that he won’t get in a word.” 

The song outside stopped, and they went on 
with their work. 

Dinner was soon ready, and during the meal 
Monsieur Duval was very quiet. Pierre did most 
of the talking. He asked questions mostly about 
the men he had just left. 

“Who is that great big one?” he asked Captain 
Webb. “He is, I think, almost bigger than you 
are.” He looked at Lieutenant Fielding and 
smiled. “And you know Valerie called you a 
giant. ' ' 


28 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“Oh, Pierre, how mean you are!” Valerie pro- 
tested in French. 

They all laughed at her embarrassment, Field- 
ing most of all, and Captain Webb replied: “I 
think you must mean Jim Goodwin. He was a 
baseball player before he joined the Army.” 

* ‘Baseball. Oh, is that your American game ? ’ * 
Pierre inquired. “I have read of it in American 
books.” 

“Well, it’s one of them,” Captain Webb smiled. 
1 ‘ Do you know how to play it?” 

“No,” Pierre shook his head. “I understand 
English cricket, but, of course, I don’t play any- 
thing .” 

“Well, if you can understand cricket,” Lieuten- 
ant Carey interrupted hurriedly, “you can do 
more than I can. Tell you what we’ll do, — to- 
morrow I’ll explain baseball to you, and you ex- 
plain cricket to me. Is it a go?” 

“Oh, yes, of course.” Pierre was outwardly 
delighted at the idea. 

The talk drifted pleasantly to other subjects, 
and it was not until supper was over and they were 


THE AMERICANS 29 

all sitting before the small fire that the cool fall 
night made necessary, that Monsieur Duval spoke, 
Valerie acting as interpreter. 

“It is a rare privilege to see soldiers again 
around our fire,” he began in his quivering voice. 
“It is many years ago that I sat here with my two 
brothers before the war — many years,” he sighed. 

After a pause Lieutenant Fielding pointed to 
the medals he wore and asked what they were. 
The old gentleman was only too glad to explain 
them, and describe how, during the Franco-Prus- 
sian war, he had been a gay and brave French sol- 
dier. One story led to another, and the American 
officers were greatly interested. 

“The Duvals are a family of fighters, aren’t 
they?” the Captain asked. 

“Indeed yes,” Monsieur Duval replied proudly, 
when Valerie had translated for him. “We are 
not a great family, but we are a very old family, 
and we have always been loyal sons to France. 
This, alas, is the first time she has ever called, 
that a Duval has not answered, but this time there 
is no one to go.” 


30 


YALEEIE DUVAL 


“ Grandpapa can’t get used to being old,” Va- 
lerie explained. “He says be would like to fight 
again.” 

She could see her brother’s eyes in the firelight, 
and she tried to make light of her grandfather’s 
profound sigh, but Pierre would not let her. 

“That is not truly what grandpapa said,” he 
contradicted. “He said that this war was the 
first in which a Duval had not fought,” he ex- 
plained simply. “It is true; but when the call 
came three years ago there was only an old man 
and a cripple boy,” he shrugged his shoulders. 
“Not much good either of us, eh, for soldiers?” 

“Oh, come, seems to me the Duvals have done 
their share,” Lieutenant Fielding tried to laugh, 
but failed miserably. In his big heart he was 
thinking none too kindly of the very thoughtless 
old gentleman sitting opposite him. 

“But now that the Americans are here every- 
thing is going to be all right,” Madame Duval ex- 
claimed, getting up. “Come along children, it is 
bed time. We’ve work for to-morrow.” 


THE AMERICANS 31 

Pierre and Valerie obeyed at once. They said 
goodnight and lighted their candles from the fire 
and went upstairs. 

When Valerie was alone in her room, she sat a 
long time before her mirror, thinking. The offi- 
cers came up to their rooms, and after a while the 
house grew quiet. Then she heard a stealthy 
click, click on the stairs. She went over to the 
window and watched. As she expected she saw 
Pierre hobble slowly down to the garden path, and 
after a minute the faint strains of a flute came up 
to her. She caught the first few bars of the Mar- 
seillaise. Pierre was playing away his sorrows 
on his beloved instrument. 

Valerie went over to her dresser and opened the 
third drawer. She looked long and earnestly at 
the bundle in it. 

‘ 4 Perhaps it will be necessary after all,” she 
said. 


CHAPTER III 


PIEREE 

) 

‘ AXL two, strike two ! ’ ’ 

r - ^ ‘ 6 Strike? How do you make that 

out ? ’ ’ 

A howl of protest rose from the side lines, and 
for a few minutes the game was suspended, while 
the players from both contesting teams sur- 
rounded the umpire and endeavored to point out 
his mistake. The umpire, however, refused to 
alter his decision. He was the company cook, and 
he was used to complaints. 

“Ball two, strike two,” he said calmly. “Go 
back to your bases or the game won’t go on.” 

The men reluctantly returned, and Pierre’s 
friend of the night before took his place in the 
pitcher’s box. Then the umpire called “play 
ball,” and the game began again. 

It was Saturday afternoon, and the men from 


32 


PIERRE 33 

the Duval farm had challenged the men from the 
village to a ball game. An even grassy field back 
of the barn had been converted into a diamond, 
and the stone wall that surrounded it made an ex- 
cellent grandstand. 

Lieutenant Carey was watching the match with 
interest, and explaining the plays as best he could 
to Pierre who sat beside him. Valerie and Lieu- 
tenant Fielding watched from across the field. 

“But that was a ball, I am sure of it,” Pierre 
said in dismay as he watched the man at the bat 
take his place. “Why do the men let that umpire 
decide?” he demanded. “They should fight.” 

Lieutenant Carey laughed. “That’s one of the 
rules of baseball, son. If the umpire says it’s a 
strike, a strike it is,” he explained. “An um- 
pire’s more important in baseball than a General 
is in the Army ; what he says goes.” 

“I see, but 1 should think he would be afraid. 
Me, I would not dare to contradict! What does 
the man in — how do you call it? — the pitcher’s box 
— what does he say?” 

“Oh, Goodwin agrees with the umpire. You 


34 


VALERIE DUVAL 


see, he pitched the ball and he ’d much rather have 
it called a strike.’ ’ 

“Oh, well, then if he says it is a strike it must 
have been. I thought he was angry.” Pierre’s 
tone was mollified ; he was changing his mind in 
favor of his hero. 

The game continued. There were more discus- 
sions, more arguments with the umpire, but at last 
they reached the ninth inning. The score was a 
tie, and the Duval farm team were at bat in the 
last half. The bases were full with two men out. 
Pierre, once he realized the importance of the sit- 
uation, was so excited that he cheered and called 
advice in rapid French. 

Goodwin was at bat. The first ball was a foul, 
and the umpire called ‘ ‘ strike one ! ’ ’ 

“No, no, he hit it, I protest!” Pierre leaned 
forward excitedly, but no one paid any attention 
to him. 

Goodwin let the next two balls go by, but the 
third he hit, — hit it so hard that his bat cracked 
open* and the ball went flying far beyond the grasp 
of the outfielders. 


PIERRE 


35 


The excitement was great, the men cheered and 
shouted, and Pierre in his excitement slipped off 
the wall. He could not reach his crutches in time, 
and his poor paralyzed legs could not support 
him ; he fell limply to the ground. 

Lieutenant Carey sprang to help him, but Pierre 
waved him away. 

“Please, please do not notice me/’ he begged. 
“I couldn’t bear it, here before all these men.” 

Lieutenant Carey nodded in understanding, and 
Pierre tried pluckily to join again in the cheering. 
Valerie and Lieutenant Fielding were probably 
the only two who saw the tumble. 

“He has grit, poor youngster,” the Lieutenant 
said, “what a shame it is!” 

“It is more of a shame than you think, Mon- 
sieur,” Valerie replied. “He is so proud and his 
spirit is so great, I think sometimes he will go 
mad. You heard last night how my grandfather 
spoke. Well, every word he says burns into my 
poor Pierre’s heart. Grandpapa is an old man, 
and of course he does not understand,” she added 
by way of apology. 


36 


VALERIE DUVAL 


Lieutenant Fielding had thought, since the night 
before, that old Monsieur Duval should be kept 
quiet, even if a muzzle were necessary, but he did 
not say so. Instead he suggested a walk. The 
game was over and the men from the village were 
preparing to leave. 

Valerie knew that Pierre would wait until they 
were all out of sight before he would attempt to 
get up. 

“Very well,” she agreed, “I will show you the 
woods up there as I promised. They are very 
lovely in the sunset, and you will tell me about 
America, as you promised. Are the girls very 
different over there from us?” she asked as they 
strolled slowly towards the woods. 

“Not very,” Lieutenant Fielding replied, “I 
guess girls are the same the world over. Of 
course, our girls are a little bit more independent 
than most French girls — I mean they do pretty 
much as they please.” 

“They are very brave, yes?” Valerie said eag- 
erly. 


PIERRE 37 

4 i Oh, I don’t know, it isn’t exactly bravery, but 
they do things. ’ ’ 

“Tell me what they do?” Valerie demanded. 

Lieutenant Fielding laughed. 

“I happened to be thinking of a certain girl 
when I said that,” he explained. “She’s Lieu- 
tenant Carey’s sister, and her name is Helen, but 
most everybody that knows her calls her Missy.” 

“And is she very brave?” Valerie insisted. 

“Well, she has a good deal of spunk, at least I 
think so, but then I ’m partial, you see. She saved 
my life twice, and so of course I think she’s just 
about all right.” 

“Tell me about it?” 

“Well, I can’t exactly. You see, you wouldn’t 
understand unless you knew all about the West, 
and of course you don’t; but here are the facts. 
One day two men — they happened to be acting 
for the German government — it was before we en- 
tered the war you know that this happened — ” 

Valerie nodded eagerly. 

“Well, you see these men had decided to kill me. 


38 


VALERIE DUVAL 


They got me all right; I was unconscious and 
never would have waked up to what was going on, 
but Missy happened to overhear their little scheme 
and she held them up, both of them, mind you, at 
the point of a gun, until I came to.” 

“Oh!” Valerie drew a deep sigh of excitement, 
and her eyes sparkled. “She must be very splen- 
did. Tell me about the next time ? ’ ’ 

Lieutenant Fielding laughed and shook his 
head. “Missy would kill me if she could hear 
me,” he protested. 

“But why?” 

“Oh, she isn’t exactly fond of having us brag 
about her,” he explained, “but she’ll never know 
this trip, so what’s the difference? The second 
time was after we had declared war. We were 
all going east to a camp — a whole train full of 
soldiers — and somehow Missy found out that a 
German was going to blow up a bridge we had to 
cross, so she told Captain Webb.” 

“Oh, did she know him too?” Valerie inquired. 

“Oh, yes, she was visiting his cousin at the time 
it all happened,” Lieutenant Fielding explained, 


PIERRE 


39 


and continued his story: “They jumped into a 
car, and Webb had a fight with the German on the 
bridge. They both fell into the water, and Missy, 
instead of waiting to pull ’em out, drove down the 
road and stopped the train before it reached the 
bridge. Her brother and I were on it, you see.” 

“ And Captain Webb?” Valerie stopped walking 
and waited. 

“Oh, he swam ashore all right, but the German 
didn’t,” Lieutenant Fielding laughed. “Missy 
was badly hurt, her shoulder was broken, but she 
didn’t seem to care, and now she’s going to marry 
Captain Webb after the war,” he finished. 

Valerie regarded him for a full minute, then 
she asked suddenly, “Are you sorry?” 

Lieutenant Fielding looked at her in surprise. 

“Goodness no, why should I be? Webb’s one 
of the finest men I know. I’m glad; so’s Tom — 
that’s Lieutenant Carey, you know.” 

Valerie nodded. “I would like to meet Missy,” 
^he said gravely, “only I would be ashamed; I 
have never done anything brave in my whole life.” 

“Nonsense, you haven’t had a chance,” Lieu- 


40 


VALERIE DUVAL 


tenant Fielding replied. “And as for seeing 
Missy, perhaps you will some day. She’s in 
France now, you know, working in a hospital . 9 9 

Valerie did not reply, but turned around and 
started back towards the house. 

J ust as they came out of the woods and reached 
the end of the garden they heard the notes of a 
flute. 

“What’s that?” Lieutenant Fielding stopped 
to listen. 

Valerie put her finger to her lips. The music 
stopped and they heard muffled sobs. 

“It is Pierre, I knew he would be sad again,” 
Valerie whispered. “You go back to the house; 
I will stay with him . 9 9 

i ‘ Sure I can ’t help ? Perhaps I could cheer him 
up,” Lieutenant Fielding offered, but Valerie 
shook her head. 

“No, it is much better for you to go.” 

The Lieutenant nodded and tiptoed down the 
path. 

When he was out of sight Valerie called: 
“Pierre, where are you, my dear?” 


PIERRE 


41 


A voice from behind a big shrub answered her. 
Pierre was lying on the ground, his face buried in 
the grass, and his frail body shook with sobs. 

“Valerie, little sister, I can’t stand it,” he cried, 
“to be like this among all those men.” 

“Has grandpapa been talking his foolishness 
again?” Valerie demanded. 

“No, no,” Pierre denied, “do not blame grand- 
papa, he is right in what he says, France at war 
and no Duval in the field. Ah, Valerie, if you had 
only been the boy with your splendid strong body, 
instead of me ; or if we only had another brother, 
or our father had lived ! It is not that I want to 
go myself, I am not silly enough even to think of 
that, — I would be content if there were some one 
else that could go in my place.” 

He buried his head in Valerie’s lap and she 
stroked his fair hair gently and tried to comfort 
him. 

“Perhaps we will find some one, little brother,” 
she said softly, “who knows — come now, try to 
cheer up so that Mama will not see your red eyes.” 

Pierre sat up. “I am a selfish cry-baby,” he 


42 


VALERIE DUVAL 


exclaimed, “and you are the brave one. It is as I 
said, you should have been the boy and I the girl.” 

“Oh, yes, I think I can see you in a pinafore, 
you great silly,” Valerie teased, “and your hair 
tied with a pink ribbon, doing embroidery per- 
haps!” 

Pierre had to laugh in spite of himself at the 
idea. He dried his eyes hurriedly and together 
they walked back to the house. 


CHAPTER IV 


FOR FRANCE 

T HAT night when every one had gone to bed 
Valerie took out the bundle from the third 
drawer of her dresser and unrolled it. 
There was a boy’s suit of tan corduroy, a soft 
flannel shirt, a cap, and a heavy pair of boots. 

She shook the suit out carefully and laid it 
over the back of a chair, then she walked over and 
sat down before the delicate gilt mirror that hung 
over her dressing-table. She nodded with ap- 
proval at her reflection. 

“I will go,” she said aloud. “If they find me 
out, they can do no more than send me home.” 

She pushed her dark hair back from her fore- 
head and twisted it into a tight knot at the back of 
her neck, then she turned her head and looked 
again into the mirror. 

“I look just as much like a boy as Pierre, and 


43 


44 


VALERIE DUVAL 


lots more like one than plenty of the boys who 
have left the village ; and ’ ’ — she paused a moment, 
a gleam of humor stole into her dark eyes, and the 
tense expression of her white face relaxed, — “it is 
a little comfort to me to know that I won’t be alto- 
gether hideous.” 

She got up and tiptoed over to the door and lis- 
tened. No one seemed to move in the house. 

“Well, if I am going there is no need to waste 
time,” she said aloud to herself. “Perhaps this 
chance has come to me just as the American girl’s 
chance came to her. She was brave, but I will be 
braver, for — ” she paused and looked proudly at 
an old miniature that hung above her bed, — “I am 
a Duval.” 

She crossed the room to a little work-table under 
the window and picked up a big pair of scissors. 
Their bright steel blades glistened in the candle- 
light. Valerie took them to her dressing table 
and sat down again before the mirror. Very 
slowly she undid the knot of hair. It was a heavy 
knot, and when it was down, the long coil reached 
below her waist. Then she picked up the scissors, 


FOR FRANCE 45 

but she shuddered and put them down again hur- 
riedly. 

“I will dress first, then I will have the cour- 
age/ ? she said, and went over to the suit of clothes. 

She unhooked her dress slowly and pulied on 
the long trousers. They were much too big for 
her, and she had to roll them up around her ankles. 
Then she changed her soft slippers for the heavy 
shoes ; she delayed a little over the lacing. 

“I am a silly, vain girl after all,” she exclaimed 
impatiently, and she returned once again to the 
dressing table. “I will do it now.” 

But in spite of her determination her hand re- 
fused to guide the scissors to her hair. Twice 
she lifted them only to put them back again on 
the table. She moved the candles impatiently 
nearer to the mirror, rested her chin in the palms 
of her hands and stared hard at her image. 

Then from the garden below the notes from 
Pierre’s flute came up to her through the open 
window. He was playing the Marseillaise. For 
the first few bars the words seemed to sing them- 
selves with the music. 


46 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“Allons enfants de la patrie. 

Le jour de gloire est arrive/ ’ 

Valerie threw back her head and listened, then 

i 

without a tremor of hesitation she snatched up the 
scissors and began to cut hurriedly. The long 
strands of hair fell to the floor. 

u There, now it is done!” 

She looked excitedly into the glass and what she 
saw made her laugh. The result of her haircut 
was uneven and comical. 

“ As a barber I am not much of a success. But 
never mind, perhaps to-morrow I can find a real 
one. In the meantime I must keep my cap on all 
the while.” 

She picked up the corduroy cap and pulled it 
well down over her head. 

“I am not exactly a dandy, but I do make a 
rather nice hoy,” she confessed to her laughing 
reflection. 

Now that her hair was cut, the hardest part was 
over, and she could enter into the spirit of her 
adventure. She tied up the rest of her new be- 
longings in a bandana handkerchief and smiled 



‘ 1 Without a tremor of hesitation she snatched up the 
scissors and began to cut hurriedly ,, 

Page 47 









FOR FRANCE 49 

as she did it. But the smile faded as she sat 
down before her writing-desk to write to her 
mother. She found her words with difficulty. 

“Dearest and best of Mothers: 

“I am going away from you to try serve my 
country. Tell Pierre that I have changed places 
with him, and not to be sad any more. Do not 
try to bring me back. When you get this I will 
be far away. I know the Bon Dieu will take care 
of me. Good-by, I love you all. 

“ Valerie.’ ’ 

She slipped the sheet of paper into an envelope 
and kissed it tenderly. Then she waited until the 
faint click, click of Pierre’s crutches sounded on 
the stairs, and tiptoed softly out of her room. 
She slipped her letter under her mother’s door as 
she passed. 

The house seemed unnaturally silent as she stole 
down the stairs. But when she pushed open the 
heavy front door, it groaned loudly on its hinges. 
She waited breathlessly, but no one stirred. She 
slipped out and closed it noiselessly behind her. 


50 


VALERIE DUVAL 


When she was half way down the garden path 
she stopped and looked at the house. There were 
no lights in the windows and not a sound broke the 
stillness. 

“Good-by Mama, my poor Pierre, and grand- 
papa. You will be very, very sad to-morrow, I 
know, but you will understand,” she whispered 
softly. 

She turned and walked quickly down the path, 
and the gate clicked behind her as she disappeared 
into the darkness of the road beyond. 

A Duval was going to answer the call of France 
at last. 


CHAPTER V 


AT RIVA 

4 T 0, Monsieur le Capitaine, I will not tell 
I you where I come from, because you 
will send me back.” 

Valerie, defiant in her boy’s suit, stood before 
the French officer in the little town of Riva many 
miles from Vinon. 

As might have been expected she had not trav- 
eled far before being found out, but the discovery 
took place on a train that was speeding towards 
the front with soldiers, and there had been no 
time to question her before she reached Riva. 

The officer, an excitable little Frenchman be- 
fore whom she stood, looked at her in dismay and 
held up his hands. 

“How did you get on that train?” he demanded, 
“will you tell me that?” 

Valerie laughed. 

“Oh, yes, of course,” she replied, “that was 

51 


52 


VALERIE DUVAL 


easy. From my home I walked to — no, I will not 
tell yon where, but anyway I finally reached Bore. 
There were naturally many hoys on the street, and 
I listened to what they had to say to one another, 
and found out that most of them expected to leave 
for here that night. There was much grumbling 
among the younger ones because they were not 
to receive their uniforms for a few weeks. 

i 1 That, Monsieur, as you can imagine was good 
news. I was not so foolish as to think that I could 
walk up to the officer there and enlist. I thought 
that when I left home, but it was not long before 
I found out that I was wrong. Every time I 
spoke to any one they looked at me with suspicion. 
You see, I had forgotten about my silly girl voice, 
and when I tried to change it and speak gruff, 
like — like you, Monsieur, it was worse than ever. 

“Well, of course, if I could not deceive the 
simple people on the road how could I hope to 
deceive a smart French officer — no, it was not to 
be thought of, and besides, if my voice did not 
give me away my hands would, so you see I gave 
up enlisting.” 


AT RIVA 53 

Valerie paused for breath, and the French officer 
waited dumbfounded for her to continue. 

“I decided that I must get a uniform by chance, 
by a trick perhaps. Oh, I could have managed it, 
I know, if that sharp-eyed, wizened up old cor- 
poral had not been on the train.” 

* 1 First, how did you get on the train V’ the offi- 
cer interrupted. 

“Oh, yes, I am coming to that. It was oh, so 
easy, Monsieur, you have no idea. All the re- 
cruits went down to the station about noon. I 
followed. Each one had a little ticket. I had 
none, to be sure, but I went with them. At the 
gate there was such a crowd, such confusion, you 
can’t picture it to yourself. I slipped in among 
the rest and through the gate. The guard was 
tired of looking at those tickets, I think, anyway 
he did not bother about me ; I was safe inside in 
a jiffy. We were crowded in the train, of course, 
we sat in long cars on hard benches, it was a long 
dusty trip, and I was tired. 

“You know the rest, Monsieur le Capitaine. I 
fell asleep and, of course, as bad luck would have 


54 


VALERIE DUVAL 


it, I selected the shoulder of that old Corporal. I 
don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke up, 
oh, the very first thing I saw were his little black 
eyes behind his shaggy eyebrows, and I saw in 
them, Monsieur, as plain as though he spoke the 
words — ‘You are a girl dressed up in your broth- 
er’s clothes.’ I did not dare to move, but after 
awhile my neck was so stiff I had to. I expected 
him to speak, but not a word. I began to hope, 
but when we reached here he took me by the hand, 
— oh, he was so aggravatingly polite! — and he 
pulled me to one side of the station, and he said : 
‘I don’t know, ma petite, what you are doing or 
how you got here, but I know you are not one of 
my boys, or any one else’s for the matter of that, 
so I guess you had better come along with me.’ ” 
Valerie stopped, her eyes were flashing angrily, 
and her cheeks were flaming. 

“Monsieur le Capitaine, I ask you, do I look 
like a boy to you ? ’ ’ she demanded. 

“You do, yes, that’s the astonishing part of it,” 
the officer replied. 

“And don’t I look strong too?” 


AT RIYA 


55 


A nod answered her. 

“Then why can’t I fight ?” 

“But you are a girl, and girls do not fight,” the 
poor perplexed officer protested. “ Won ’t you tell 
me, please, what ever put this foolish notion into 
your pretty head?” 

“Oh, if you insist, yes, but isn’t it a natural 
thing for a strong French girl to want to fight?” 

“No, a thousand times no, my child,” the officer 
denied. “A girl’s place is behind the lines to 
nurse, to cook perhaps, but to fight — no, it is a 
ridiculous idea. Now tell me why you thought of 
it?” 

Valerie sighed resignedly. 

“I came, Monsieur, from a fighting family,” she 
began, trying to quote old Monsieur Duval. “In 
every war we have done our share, except in this.” 

“Oh, I see, there are no men left now,” the offi- 
cer’s voice was very gentle. 

“No, that is not the reason exactly,” Valerie 
went on. “There are two men, one is over eighty, 
and the other, my brother, is a hopeless cripple. 
Oh, Monsieur, don’t you understand — for three 


56 


VALERIE DUVAL 


long years I have watched those two grieve over 
their worthlessness, as they called it, and I could 
stand it no longer! I was strong — I am strong, 
very strong, Monsieur, and I am afraid of noth- 
ing. 7 ' 

“I believe you, ,: the officer smiled faintly. 

“So I came to take my brother’s place, and now 
you won’t let me.” 

The officer did not reply at once. Perhaps for 
half a minute he was almost tempted to give in to 
her as a proof of his admiration for her bravery. 
At last he said gravely : 

“You are a true and loyal daughter of France. 
I tell you, she is proud of you. I wish that what 
you ask was not so hard to grant, but, my dear, you 
do not understand all that war means.” 

“But, Monsieur, you will let me serve some way; 
you will not send me home.” Valerie’s eyes were 
alight with hope. The officer looked into them for 
a brief second. “No, my dear, that would be in- 
deed ungrateful. I will find something for you to 
do. Now will you tell me your name!” 


AT RIVA 57 

“Do you promise not to send me back?” Valerie 
inquired doubtingly. 

“On my honor as a Frenchman,” the officer re- 
plied. 

“Then, my name is Valerie Duval.” 

“Duval! I know that name well,” the officer 
exclaimed. “I have often heard of your father 
from my father. Your mother was half Ameri- 
can, wasn’t she?” 

“Yes, Monsieur, on her mother’s side,” Valerie 
replied. 

“I thought so. French and American, the com- 
bination accounts for everything,” he smiled and 
then continued hurriedly. “Now, Mademoiselle 
Duval, we must decide what to do with you. 
Would you help in our estaminet?” (An inn.) 

“Gladly, Monsieur le Capitaine,” Valerie re- 
plied politely, but the tone of her voice showed 
disappointment. 

“Good. Madame Lefevre has opened hers as 
a sort of canteen for the men. She is very busy 
and I know will be glad of your help. I will send 


58 VALEBIE DUVAL 

you to her at once, she will give you some suitable 
clothes. ’ ’ 

The officer could not repress a smile as he re- 
garded the ill-fitting, dusty suit before him. In 
answer to his order a corporal entered. He was 
the same one who earlier in the day had discov- 
ered Valerie. He was an old man, and an old sol- 
dier, but his piercing eyes were not without a 
gleam of kindness. Valerie looked at him angrily 
as he saluted the officer. 

“Take this young lady to Madame Lefevre’s, 
and tell her I will come myself and explain to her 
later on. Miss Duval is going to help Madame 
in the canteen / 9 

The corporal saluted and stood aside at the door 
waiting for Valerie to pass. She was reluctant to 
go. It is hard to give up the dream of a soldier 
for the realities of an estaminet. 

The officer noticed her hesitation. “This will 
be only temporary, Madame,” he said courteously. 
“I promise you that if later I find anything that 
you can do for France, I will tell you. Your cour- 
age deserves that.” 


AT RIVA 59 

“ Thank you,” Valerie said earnestly, and 
passed the corporal with her head in the air. 

The old man chuckled to himself and watched 
her, as she swung along, admiringly. 

Madame Lefevre grudgingly accepted Valerie’s 
offer to help, and after she had recovered from the 
surprise that the corduroy suit caused her, she 
promised to find some sort of dress for her. 

The corporal delivered the Captain’s message, 
and was ready to leave when he turned to Valerie. 
“Mademoiselle, I am sorry that I was forced to 
report you, hut it was my duty,” he said gruffly. 
“I admire courage whenever I find it — I ask your 
pardon. ’ ’ 

“Certainly, Monsieur,” Valerie replied, “but 
it was mean of you, duty or no duty, to tell on me, 
and you know it. I almost cry with rage when I 
think of it,” she continued crossly, “to think that 
I cut off my beautiful hair, and only for five days 
— it is cruel,” she ended lamely. 

“Poor little one, now I regret my part more 
than ever,” the gallant soldier smiled and put his 
hand over his heart. “In future I am at your 


60 


VALERIE DUVAL 


service always, Mademoiselle, remember that.” 

‘ i Thank you,” Valerie replied woefully, “ that’s 
something.” Then the spirit of mischief getting 
the best of her, she brought her heels together 
smartly and saluted. 

The corporal went off down the road chuckling. 
“She does it better than any of the new recruits,” 
he said to himself, “I almost wish I had held my 
old tongue.” 


CHAPTER VI 


RUMORS 

T HE small town of Riva was not many miles 
behind a part of the French front. It had 
in the first days of the war been under 
heavy bombardment, and when Valerie first saw 
it, it was a mass of ruined cottages. 

It was used by the French for rest billets. New 
men came into it every few days from the front, 
and others left to take their places. The new 
recruits were sent there for their final training, 
so that the small uneven streets were crowded 
most of the time. 

Few of the old inhabitants of Riva had returned. 
Madame Lefevre alone had stayed there during 
the bombardment. No threats could induce her to 
leave. She was a thin gaunt woman with skimpy 
gray hair and bony hands, but to the French sol- 
diers that she served daily with cheese and 


61 


62 VALERIE DUVAL 

wine and bread she was a ministering angel. 

Madame ’s husband had owned the inn, of which 
now only the first floor remained, and before the 
war he had done a thriving business, but he had 
been killed in the first month of the fighting, and 
Madame had taken over the establishment. With 
a grim determination to serve as best she could, 
she kept what was left of her home open day and 
night for the soldiers. 

There had been no one to help her until Valerie 
came. At first she had resented the suggestion 
that she needed help, but as the days passed and 
Valerie proved her usefulness, she grew recon- 
ciled, and even grateful. 

The soldiers back from the front were first 
astonished and then delighted, to have their wine 
served to them by a very handsome girl with 
short hair, and it was not long before they felt 
hurt if she was not there to wait on them. But 
they could hardly be blamed for their fickleness, 
for Valerie had a far more lavish hand in cutting 
the bread and apportioning the wine than the 
thrifty Madame. 


RUMORS 


63 


It was not many days after Valerie’s arrival, 
that the corporal came into the estaminet, and 
called for bread and cheese and a bottle of wine. 

“ A whole bottle, Monsieur,” Valerie demanded, 
surprised, “what extravagance!” 

The corporal laughed. “I always order a 
whole bottle, Mademoiselle,” he said, “before I 
go into the trenches. It is a superstition with me. 
I know to be sure that in Heaven most things are 
of the best, but I doubt if the wine can rival the 
wine of France; so if I am to die I want to die 
with the pleasant memory of it, a large memory, 
Mademoiselle. And a glass — ah, well a glass is 
just a little glass.” 

“Such a way to talk,” Valerie chided, “I’m 
ashamed of you, corporal! You should think of 
your sins when you die, not of food. But tell me, 
is it true that you are going back to the trenches?” 

“Yes, back to the mud, and with a new lot of 
men — boys, I should say — your comrades, Ma- 
demoiselle. ’ ’ 

“You mean the boys I came here with?” Valerie 
demanded. 


64 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“The same.” 

“Then if you had not found me out, I might 
have been going too, with them ; think of 
it.” 

“I heartily wish you were,” the corporal re- 
plied, “then I would be sure of one head in the 
crowd that had a few brains. Such a lot of im- 
beciles as these fellows are, and the worst of it is, 
there is work for us to do.” 

“An attack?” Valerie’s eyes were wide with 
excitement. 

The corporal winked knowingly. 

“That I cannot say,” he replied mysteriously, 
“maybe yes, maybe no, at any rate, I think there 
will be a little excitement. Listen to the guns. 
Now they rumble a little off and on, but in a few 
days perhaps they will begin to roar.” 

“Oh, please tell me some more,” Valerie teased, 
“I am so excited.” 

The corporal laughed. “ There is no more to 
tell just yet,” he said. “Wait until we come back, 
then I will tell you everything.” 

More arrivals who called for bread and cheese 


RUMORS 65 

demanded Valerie’s attention, and the conversa- 
tion ended. 

The next day the corporal, with some of the new 
recruits, left for the front, and the company they 
relieved returned to Riva. They were a very 
tired and very muddy lot of men. 

“Is it very bad out there now, Monsieur?” 
Valerie asked one day as she served a big man 
from the south with wine. 

“Yes, Mademoiselle, it is more than bad,” he 
answered wearily, “there is no end to the fire. 
All day long the shells burst from a big gun.” 

“But why don’t our guns stop it? Surely if 
we shelled it we could at least disable it.” 

“That is very good talk,” the man answered 
with a show of contempt, “but before you can 
silence it, Mademoiselle, you must first find out 
where it is. That gun is hidden far back of the 
German lines. Our aeroplanes have tried to lo- 
cate it, but they always fail; it must be in some 
clever spot.” 

“But can’t you tell from the sound?” Valerie 
asked. 


66 VALEEIE DUVAL 

The man looked at her and shrugged his shoul- 
ders. 

“How can you tell by the sound when there are 
half-a-dozen guns all barking at once? They are 
not so foolish as to try to fire it alone.’ ’ 

“Oh, I see,” Valerie nodded her head under- 
standing^. 

“And now please bring me some more cheese, 
and don’t ask any more questions. Girls are al- 
ways asking questions, and for no purpose.” 

The man turned his attention to the plate be- 
fore him and did not speak again. 

Valerie was angry, but she did not say anything. 
She hurried through with her work, and telling 
Madame that she was going out for a little walk 
she strolled off in the direction of the Headquar- 
ters. She had not seen the Captain more than 
once or twice since her first interview with him. 
He was very busy and spent most of his time at 
his desk. 

When Valerie had crossed the town and reached 
the building that served as Headquarters she did 
not attempt to go inside. She crossed to the other 


RUMORS 


67 


side of the street and pretended to inspect the 
ruins of the old church. She knew that the Cap- 
tain would have to come out sooner or later, and 
she was determined to wait for him. 

After an hour her patience was rewarded. She 
saw the guard at the door stiffen up and salute, 
and the Captain came out and walked briskly 
down the two steps. He saw Valerie and 
stopped. 

“Good afternoon, little Miss Soldier,’ ’ he said, 
smiling. 1 ‘ How goes it ? ’ ’ 

“Oh, there’s plenty to do,” Valerie replied 
gayly, “but it’s not very exciting. Have you any 
news of my company?” 

The Captain’s face fell. 

“Only bad news, Mademoiselle,” he said 
gravely. “They lost a number of men just in 
taking over their position. There is a bit of 
road under German fire.” 

“Poor boys!” Valerie sighed, “killed before 
they even had a chance to fight. I suppose it was 
that hidden gun of the Germans that did it,” she 
said. 


68 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“What do you know of the hidden gun?” the 
Captain demanded. 

“Oh, not much, just what I’ve heard the sol- 
diers say about it over their wine. It would make 
a lot of difference if it could be found, wouldn’t 
it, Monsieur?” she asked idly. 

“It would indeed. Our gunners have tried 
every way of locating it. It is well hidden, but 
we will find it in time, so don’t worry over it. 
Have you written to Madame, your Mother?” 

“Yes,” Valerie replied, “I told her I was safe, 
and that there was no chance, unfortunately, of 
my being anything else.” 

The Captain laughed. When he had gone Val- 
erie added to herself. “That was true yesterday, 
but not to-day. I will show that cross soldier why 
girls ask so many questions.” 


CHAPTER VII 


THE GUNS 

T HAT night, true to the corporal ’s proph- 
ecy, the guns began to roar. Valerie and 
Madame Lefevre were washing dishes 
when the first boom shook the very foundations of 
the house. 

“The attack,’ ’ Madame said, hardly lifting her 
eyes from her work, — but Valerie stopped to 
listen. She had never heard the guns so plainly, 
and she felt a sudden thrill of terror at the omi- 
nous sound. 

“This will go on for hours, I suppose,” Madame 
spoke wearily; “then early to-morrow morning 
our soldiers will go over the top and capture the 
German’s front trenches. By to-morrow night if 
we are lucky we may hear news. It is always the 
same, a long hard fight for a muddy ditch, death 
to many of our brave boys, and so much more of 

69 


70 


VALERIE DUVAL 


our own country ours again. Always the same.” 
Madame ’s voice trailed off in a low sigh. 

Valerie looked at her and shivered, Madame 
spoke with too much assurance — the assurance 
gained from repeated experience — to leave room 
for a doubt. It was disheartening, and not at all 
as Valerie had believed it. She finished her work 
in silence and went down into the cellar, one cor- 
ner of which served as her bedroom. 

She could not sleep. The heavy fire of the guns 
kept her awake. They seemed to interfere with 
her ability to think. She tried to cover up her 
head, but could not shut out the sound. 

Madame Lefevre came down a little later. She 
lost no time in getting to bed, and evidently the 
guns did not disturb her, for she fell asleep al- 
most at once. 

Valerie listened to her heavy breathing, and 
tried to force herself to think of something beside 
the guns, but she could not do it, they seemed to 
be pounding at her temples. She was so restless 
that just a little after midnight she got up and 
went to the room above. Anything was better 


THE GUNS 


71 


than the damp, cold smell of that dismal cellar. 
She opened the door and stepped outside. It was 
very dark and the air seemed heavy with fog. 
She sat down on the step and buried her head in 
her hands. In the, open the guns did not terrify 
her as they had done, down in the cellar. 

After a little a rumbling noise seemed to detach 
itself from the steady roar, and grow nearer. 

Valerie sat up and listened. She looked in- 
tently down the road. Something big seemed to 
be lurching from side to side in the darkness 
ahead. She watched, and before long she could 
make out the shape of an ambulance. She waited 
until it was near enough to her, and then she 
called : 

“What is it?” 

The car came to an abrupt stop, and a man 
jumped from the driver’s seat. 

‘ 4 Ambulance driver; lost my way,” he said in 
very poor French. 

“Are you an American?” Valerie asked in Eng- 
lish. 

The man gave a sharp exclamation of surprise. 


72 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“I am,” he replied. "Thank goodness, I’ve 
struck somebody I can talk to. In the first place 
can you tell me where I am!” 

"In Riva, back of the French lines. Army 
Headquarters are just across the town.” 

"Well, I guess I’d better report I’m lost,” the 
man explained. "I must have taken the wrong 
turn, and I’m carrying six wounded.” 

"In there?” Valerie pointed to the ambulance, 
and the American nodded. 

"Then there is no time to waste. Get back in 
your car and I will go with you to the Captain.” 

The man jumped back in his seat, and Valerie 
took her place beside him. 

As the car hit the rough places in the road, she 
could hear the soldiers in their stretchers groan. 
A guard at Headquarters challenged them to stop, 
and when Valerie had explained he hurried to no- 
tify the Captain. 

"You are twenty miles from your base,” the 
Captain said, when Valerie had again explained. 
"You could not get there for the roads are all torn 
up. Are your wounded very serious cases?” 


THE GUNS 


73 


The American nodded. 

4 ‘Isn't there a doctor around anywhere ?" he 
demanded of Valerie. 

“No, not here, but wait a minute,' ' she turned 
excitedly to the Captain. “I served wine yester- 
day to three men who said they had been medical 
students before the war. If we could find them 
we could perhaps make those poor wounded sol- 
diers a little more comfortable." 

The Captain nodded agreement, and immed- 
iately sent off a guard to find the men. Then 
with Valerie and the American he rode back to 
the estaminet. 

Valerie ran down to the cellar to call Madame 
Lefevre. 

“Come quickly, we must get some beds ready, 
there are wounded." 

Madame was awake and up in a minute, and 
with Valerie she lugged the mattresses from the 
cellar up to the dining-room, and put them on the 
top of the tables. The Captain and the American 
brought in the men. One of them was dead, and 
the others were suffering greatly. The Ameri- 


74 


VALERIE DUVAL 


can had his coat off and his sleeves rolled up, and 
was at work cutting off the muddy uniforms and 
trying to stop the flow of blood. 

The medical students arrived breathless, and 
saluted the Captain. They were capable men and 
made the best of the little knowledge they had ac- 
quired. Valerie and Madame Lefevre seemed to 
be everywhere at once, fetching water and more 
candles, and doing whatever the men directed. 

Before long two more ambulances arrived. 
Their drivers explained that there had been a 
surprise attack of the Germans, and that things 
were going badly at the front. The road to the 
hospital was wrecked so badly that traveling over 
it was impossible. There was little time to either 
ask or answer questions, for the new wounded had 
to be brought into the Inn and cared for also. 

One man who had come in the last ambulance 
was a gunner. The stretcher-bearers had found 
him lying beside his gun. He was badly wounded 
and out of his mind. As Valerie brought him 
water he caught her hand and would not let her 
go. He seemed to confuse her in some way with 


THE GUNS 75 

his own sister, and he tried to explain to her how 
everything had happened. 

“It’s that gun,” he moaned. “It’s doing all 
the damage. I’ve tried to find it, and I did, oh, I 
did! I had the range 8000-5-30 Right. Then 
they got Marsac, my friend Marsac. I was just 
going to fire, when — oh, what am I doing here, I 
must get back to my gun at once. Gunner num- 
ber 42, attached to gun fire, sir,” he tried to salute. 
“I tell you, the range is 8000-5-30 Right. Gun 
is hidden, but I know that will get it. I bet with 
Marsac, — oh, my little sister — I am going. ’ ’ 

He rolled over suddenly on his side and seemed 
to crumple up. Valerie screamed, and the Cap- 
tain came over to her. 

“There, there, little one, it is much better so.” 

“He — he — said he had the range for the gun; 
the hidden gun,” Valerie tried not to sob, “it was 
8000-5-30 Right.” 

“Oh, he was out of his head, that means noth- 
ing,” the Captain replied. “Go outside and 
breathe the fresh air for a minute,” he suggested. 

Valerie was only too glad to take his advice. 


76 


VALERIE DUVAL 


She shuddered as she walked past the rows of 
men, and tried to keep her eyes closed until she 
reached the door. 

Once outside she took a long breath. It had 
begun to drizzle, and the feel of the rain in her 
face seemed to bring back her courage.- 

“8000-5-30 Right. 8000-5-30 Right,’ : ’ she re- 
peated over and over to herself. “If he was 
right, and I could only get the news back to the 
lines !” 


CHAPTER VIII 


A STOLEN RIDE 


o 


ET, here you are ! ’ ’ 


A voice at her side made her start. 
She looked up to find the American 


standing beside her. 

4 4 Do they want me in there % ’ ’ she asked. 

“No, there’s not much anybody can do. We’ve 
nothing to work with,” he replied. “I’m going 
back to try and get to the front dressing station. 
It’s in a cellar, and I may be able to bring back 
some supplies. The men who drove those cars 
in,” he pointed to the two ambulances drawn up 
beside his on the road, “say that a Boche shell 
smashed the roof in, that’s why they cleared out 
with as many men as they could find that were still 
alive.” 

“Well, I’m off, tell the Captain why I’ve gone, 


77 


78 VALERIE DUVAL 

will you? My French won’t work under excite- 
ment. 9 9 

“8000-5-30 Right,” Valerie said aloud, then 
she turned to the man beside her. “Wait here, 
Monsieur, the Captain may have some other or- 
ders. I will be right back.” 

The American nodded and walked over to his 
car. Valerie hurried inside and found the Cap- 
tain. She explained briefly. 

“Have you any order for him?” she asked im- 
patiently. 

“No, tell him to find a doctor if he can,” the 
Captain replied, ‘ ‘ and wish him Godspeed. There 
is little chance of his coming back . 9 9 

Valerie did not wait to hear more, but went out 
to the American. 

“You are to find a doctor if you can,” she told 
him, “and the Captain wishes you Godspeed.” 

“Oh, I’m not dead yet,” the American laughed, 
“and I’m not going to be. I was born lucky.” 
He started the car. “So long, see you later,” he 
called. 

Valerie waited until he backed around, and then 


A STOLEN RIDE 


79 


when he stopped to shift his gears, she jumped on 
to the step and crawled quickly in under one of the 
stretchers. The car darted ahead into the dark- 
ness at a terrific speed. The American did not 
seem to care about the bumps and he did not know 
he was carrying a passenger. 

Valerie tried to find something to hold on to, 
for she was bumping around like a rubber ball. 
Finally she managed to climb into one of the 
stretchers and lay there trying to decide on some 
plan. She knew the number of the gun, where 
the dead man had been stationed, and she kept 
repeating the numbers of the range as he had 
repeated them. 

4 4 8000-5-30 Right. 8000-5-30 Right. ’ ’ 

They meant nothing to her, but in a vague way 
she knew that if she could only say them to a 
gunner he would be able to understand. 

The car lurched along, and the American 
started to sing. Valerie listened, and a sharp 
pang of homesickness brought sudden tears to her 
eyes. He was singing the same tune that the 
Americans had sung for Pierre their first eve- 


80 


VALERIE DUVAL 


ning at the Duval farm. She wondered what they 
were all doing now, — sleeping, she supposed. 

“If I can deliver my message to some one, and 
they get that German gun, perhaps Pierre will 
not feel so bad. It will be a little something any- 
way, ’ ’ she said to herself. Then she fell to think- 
ing of the big American Lieutenant Fielding, and 
wondering if some day he might not tell an Ameri- 
can girl that the French girls “do things,’ ’ too. 

The inside of the ambulance was very dark, and 
she had no idea of where she was going. The 
noise of the guns grew louder, and every now and 
then one would seem to rip up the very earth be- 
neath them. Her ears hurt her, and the top of her 
head felt as if it were coming off, but her mind 
was clear, and she remembered the important 
numbers. 

As they came nearer to the Front, the American 
stopped singing and the speed of the car slack- 
ened. The road was not a road at all, but a great 
torn-up field full of deep shell holes, and he had to 
pick his way with care. The shells were bursting 


A STOLEN BIDE 81 

all around them, and the noise and the din grew 
worse every minute. 

Valerie wanted to scream, but by summoning all 
of her will power she kept from it. She bit her 
lip until it bled, and dug her finger nails into the 
palm of her hand. She wanted to tell the Ameri- 
can that she was there, but she knew that he 
would feel he must try to take care of her, and 
she did not want that, for his task was hard 
enough without her adding to it, so like the brave 
soldier that she wanted to be, she kept quiet and 
waited. 

At last the car stopped and she heard the Amer- 
ican say to himself, “ Pretty lively, but I guess 
this is about the spot.” 

He got down from his seat and Valerie watched 
him stumble off into the din ahead. 

She was alone, alone with only some meaning- 
less numbers running through her head, and with- 
out the slightest idea of what to do. She was 
terribly frightened, but she climbed out of the 
ambulance and started to walk towards the burst- 


82 


VALERIE DUVAL 


ing shells. Little snatches of things she had heard 
the Corporal say came back to her : 

“If you see a shell lie down flat. Noise never 
hurt anybody.” And most important, “Always 
know what you are going to do and go ahead and 
do it.” 

That was the hardest of all, for Valerie had no 
idea of what she was going to do, or how she was 
going to do it. 

The ground was slippery and slimy with mud. 
She had hard work keeping on her feet, but she 
plunged ahead. Before she had gone very far all 
the Corporal’s advice was forgotten, and her only 
thought was to meet some one, to hear a human 
voice in the midst of that hideous noise. 

She ran when she could, but there were so many 
shell holes that she stumbled constantly. Her 
clothes, an old black dress of Madame Lefevre’s, 
were covered with mud, and she kept putting her 
foot through the long skirt. 

“Oh, why didn’t I put on my suit,” she said 
aloud, and then stopped suddenly for a voice 
answered her. 


A STOLEN RIDE 83 

“Stretcher-bearer, help me, I am wounded,” it 
called. 

“I am not a stretcher-bearer, but where are 
you?” 

At the first words Valerie’s courage had come 
back to her. 

“Here in this mud-hole.” A hand caught her 
skirt, and she knelt down beside a soldier. 

“Are you wounded, Monsieur?” she asked 
gently. 

“A girl! By all the saints, what are you do- 
ing here?” The voice was weak, but Valerie 
knew from the tone that the speaker was dis- 
appointed. 

“Yes, a girl, but I am here to find gun number 
five. Do you know where it is?” 

“No, it should be over to the right, but wait 
for the next star shell. If you will prop me up 
I may be able to tell you.” 

“But I must get you back to the ambulance,” 
Valerie protested, “there is one not far from 
here.” 

“No, no, Mademoiselle, please do not trouble 


84 


VALERIE DUVAL 


yourself,” the soldier replied, “lam done for, so 
why waste precious time. I did not call you for 
help. I am a dispatch bearer, and I have im- 
portant messages to get to Riva, the wires are 
down, and we are badly in need of support. ’ ’ 

“Ah, there!” he exclaimed as a star shell illu- 
minated the country for a moment, 1 1 over in that 
wood there is gun five, I think, but why do you 
want to go there?” 

“I have the range for the big German gun,” 
Valerie replied. 

“The range? — then go at once — why do you 
wait? It will soon be dawn, and we are expect- 
ing the Germans to attack. Hurry, don’t stand 
there gaping, if we can silence that gun we may 
yet save our line.” 

“Give me your dispatches then,” Valerie said. 
< * Perhaps I can get them back. ’ ’ 

The soldier tried to move his arm, but failed. 
Not a groan escaped him as he said, “Pardon, 
Mademoiselle, but they are there in my case. You 
will have to get them.” 


A STOLEN RIDE 85 

Valerie’s hands trembled as she felt for the 
papers. 

“ And now yon?” she asked, when she had them 
safely. 

“I, Mademoiselle, do not matter, I die for 
France, and I die gladly. Go, please — there is so 
little time.” 

Valerie’s eyes were blinded by hot stinging 
tears, and a sob rose to her throat. She did not 
dare trust herself to speak. Instead, she leaned 
over and very tenderly kissed the wounded man 
on the forehead, then without giving her courage 
time to desert her, she ran as fast as she could 
towards the woods. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE LAST SHELL 

I N the sudden light of the star shell the wood 
had looked to be very near, but as Valerie 
stumbled along, it seemed to grow farther 
and farther away. The eerie light caused by the 
bursting shells did not help her, and only added 
to the terrible confusion. 

Just as she had almost given up she ran into 
something. It was the charred stump of a tree, 
and at the touch of it she knew she was nearing 
her goal. She stood still and shouted, but in the 
deafening roar she could not even hear her own 
voice. She forged on again, still calling aloud; 
she did not hope to be heard, but it was a relief 
to scream. 

She might have wandered about for hours 
searching in vain, for it is impossible to locate 


86 


THE LAST SHELL 


87 


even a big gun in such a tumult, and darkness, but 
fortunately there was a lull between shells. It 
was hardly perceptible, but it was long enough for 
her to hear voices. She ran frantically in the di- 
rection from which they came and found two men 
beside a big gun. One of them was lying on the 
ground, and the other was kneeling beside him. 

They looked up at Valerie’s approach. In the 
darkness they were no more than shadowy forms 
to one another, but the soldiers saw the skirt of 
Madame Lefevre’s old dress flap, and when Val- 
erie spoke they exclaimed, “A girl!” just as the 
dispatch bearer had exclaimed, but there was no 
hint of disappointment in their voices, only an in- 
credulous wonder. 

“Is this gun number five?” Valerie demanded. 

On hearing such a practical question, the sol- 
dier who was not wounded recovered from his 
bewilderment sufficiently to reply, “Yes, gun num- 
ber five.” 

“And are you a gunner?” 

Another “yes.” 

“Then fire a shell 8000-5—30 — Right, — it is the 


88 


VALERIE DUVAL 


range of the big German gun!” Valerie com- 
manded excitedly. 

“How do you know?” 

“One of the gunners who was here before you, 
told me he found the range, but he was wounded 
before he could fire.” 

The man jumped to his feet. 

“We are out of ammunition, Mademoiselle, but 
there is just one shell left. I did not send it be- 
cause it was useless. At our last fire one of their 
accursed guns came so near getting our range, 
that a piece of the bursting shell wounded my com- 
rade. I let them think they had silenced us, it 
seemed best until we got more ammunition, then 
I hoped to surprise them.” 

“But there is one shell!” Valerie demanded. 

“Yes, just one.” 

“Then send it. Be careful to get the range just 
as I give it, the gunner who died was sure it was 
right.” 

“Tell it to me again,” the soldier was preparing 
to load the gun. 

Valerie repeated the numbers clearly. 


THE LAST SHELL 


89 


The gunner set to work. 

“Range 8000-5 degrees, 30 minutes, Right.” 
He adjusted the gun methodically. 

“All is ready, Mademoiselle,” he said at last, 
“I hope it is right.” 

“Fire for France!” 

Valerie gave the order in a low voice, and the 
man obeyed. The big gun shot forward, there 
was a deafening report, and then it fell back to 
its place. 

They waited breathless. 

To Valerie it seemed impossible to believe that 
anything could travel so far as that shell had to 
travel before it reached the big German gun, for 
the heavy artillery is always well away from the 
trenches on both sides, and the distance between 
is great. The gunner understood his gun, but he 
waited even more eagerly than Valerie. At last 
he exclaimed, “Silenced!” 

“How do you know?” she demanded. 

“Listen,” he lifted a warning finger, “it is not 
working, can’t you hear?” 

Valerie shook her head. “No, it is just the 


90 VALERIE DUVAL 

same to me,” she said wonderingly. “Are you 
sure?” 

“Beyond a doubt,” the gunner laughed, a 
hearty laugh of relief, and the man on the ground 
raised himself on his elbow. 

“It has stopped comrade, eh?” he asked 
weakly, “the big one?” 

Valerie listened again intently, and tried to 
imagine that the noise did seem a little less, but 
if she succeeded, it was only through her imagina- 
tion, for it takes trained ears to detect the dif- 
ferent guns in a bombardment and to know when 
one is “tapped.” 

“I hope you are right,” she said doubtfully. 

“But, Mademoiselle, it has ceased firing. Lis- 
ten, the great boom that should sound over there 
does not come. Perhaps we have only killed the 
gun crew, that I cannot tell. It will be well for 
me to go to another of our guns, but you must 
be taken back in safety.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Valerie replied, 
“I can get back all right; I must, for I have some- 
thing else to do.” 


THE LAST SHELL 91 

The gunner did not contradict ; he went over to 
his comrade and lifted him gently, 

“Come, I will get you on my back and we will 
find the dressing station,” he said cheerfully. 

“But that is destroyed,” Valerie explained, “a 
shell hit it. The nearest place to take him is 
Riva. There is an ambulance waiting off there 
somewhere. Quick, we must hurry or it may be 
too late. Let me help you carry him.” 

“No, no, he is no weight,” the gunner refused. 
“There, he is on my back, so.” 

They started off slowly, Valerie going ahead 
and pointing out the shell holes. Now that the 
big gun was silenced she had time to think of the 
dispatches, and the memory of the plucky fellow 
whom she had left to die alone urged her to 
hurry on. There were the streaks of dawn in the 
sky, and to her eyes accustomed to the dark by 
now it lighted up the whole country and made 
progress very much easier. 

They reached the ambulance in a short time, 
but there was no driver. They lifted the wounded 
man into one of the stretchers, and Valerie ex- 


92 


VALEEIE DUVAL 


plained to the gunner why the American had come. 

4 4 There is little chance of his returning, ’ 9 the 
man said with a shrug, 4 4 the road to the dressing 
station was under the heaviest fire. He is prob- 
ably dead.” 

Valerie shuddered. 

4 4 Can you drive a car ? ’ 9 she asked. 

The man nodded. 

4 4 Then take these dispatches and start. I will 
try to find the other gun and get some news of the 
driver. You can return at once.” 

The man considered for a moment. 

4 4 No, I cannot let you do that. You would be 
killed. Soon our men, if there are enough left, 
will go over the top and you could do nothing. 
The dispatches must be delivered, though now it 
may be too late. I will drive the ambulance, but 
you must come with me.” 

Valerie looked at the man and saw that it 
would be useless to protest, she would only delay 
the return if she argued. 

4 4 Very well, Monsieur, I will go,” she said. 44 I 
have the dispatches here. Will you carry them ? 9 9 



They started off slowly, Valerie going ahead and pointing 
out the shell holes 


Page 93 



THE LAST SHELL 95 

“No, you keep them. Come, we must be off at 
once. ’ ’ 

He turned to the car for a minute. Valerie 
did not know what to do, then an idea came to her. 

“ Start/ ’ she said. “I will stay beside your 
friend and do what I can for him, he is very weak. ” 
She climbed into the back of the ambulance. 

The gunner took his place at the wheel and they 
were off. 

Valerie waited until they had gone a little way, 
and then very gently she slipped the dispatches 
under the wounded man’s head. He was uncon- 
scious and did not appear to notice. Then she 
crawled to the back of the car and waited. As 
she expected the gunner had to slacken his speed 
on account of the road. She waited until they 
came to a very bad place and as the car slowed 
down she jumped warily to the ground. 

The car quickened its speed and lumbered on. 
She watched it until it was out of sight, then she 
jumped up and ran back towards the bursting 
shells for the second time, only this time she 
had a very definite plan in her mind. 


CHAPTER X 


THE EAT POINTS THE WAY 

S HE followed the road ahead of her; it was 
very easy to distinguish in the coining light. 
The shells seemed to lose some of their 
power to frighten her, for their fire paled against 
the gray of the sky, but the noise was as deafening 
as ever, and the mud and slime grew worse at 
every step. She knew that the dressing station 
must he at the end of the road somewhere, for she 
had watched the American hurry off in that direc- 
tion, — but how far, she had no idea. 

When she had walked for about a quarter of a 
mile she reached what might have been at one 
time a tiny village, but now it was a desolate heap 
of ruins, with hardly one stone left above another. 
To Valerie it was more terrible than the open 
country, to have to walk through what remained 
of the little street. She thought of Vinon, and 

96 


THE RAT POINTS THE WAY 97 

tried to picture it in such a state. The picture 
made her angry, and she hastened her steps. 

The guns had almost stopped firing and a si- 
lence, almost as terrifying as the noise had been, 
shrouded the little village. At the end of the 
street a pile of stones was smoldering. The smoke 
curled up and floated peacefully away. 

Valerie stopped and looked about her. A pair 
of stone steps at a little distance seemed to lead 
into a hole in the ground, just a little to one side 
of the fire. As she looked at them, trying to make 
up her mind what to do, a big rat ran up them 
and scuttled across the road. Valerie started to 
scream. She was afraid, deathly afraid, of rats, 
and this one seemed a monster in the pale light, 
but the scream never passed her lips, for as she 
looked she saw that the rat was trailing a long 
stream of white behind him. She waited until 
he disappeared into another hole and then ran 
over to look. The white was a strip of bandage. 
Valerie watched it fascinated as it jerked along 
after the rat. She was too startled to act at once, 
her mind was befuddled. She stood swaying un- 


98 


VALERIE DUVAL 


certainly when suddenly the whole earth seemed 
to open before her very eyes and let free all the 
furies of fire and noise. A great curtain of flame 
shut out her view directly ahead at no very great 
distance, and the heavy roar of the guns was punc- 
tuated by sharp clicking sounds that came in rapid 
succession. 

Terrified, Valerie dashed down the steps and 
through a short tunnel. It was narrow and very 
dark and ended abruptly. A heavy beam had 
fallen across the entrance to the cellar beyond. 
Valerie felt about her, and crawled under the beam. 
She felt, rather than saw, that she was in a big 
room. It was dark, and at first she could distin- 
guish nothing, then from the very farthest corner 
she saw a steady red glow, no bigger than a pin 
point. A sudden hope flashed through her mind. 

‘ ‘ Is there any one here ? ’ ’ she asked excitedly. 

“Caesar’s ghost! Am I dreaming, or is that 
you again?” a voice answered that Valerie rec- 
ognized with a thrill of joy to be the American’s. 

“Yes, it is I,” she replied in English, “Can I 
get over to you?” 


THE EAT POINTS THE WAY 


99 


“Well, better be careful, there’s a lot of things 
lying around, but you might try. I’d help you, 
only you see I’m pinned down under the roof and 
I can’t move,” the American replied. 

Valerie started groping her way toward him. 

“Keep your cigarette burning,” she said, “I 
can find you by that.” 

She stumbled into things that felt like barrels, 
and once she struck her elbow against the sharp 
corner of a table, but at last she touched the 
American’s outstretched hand. 

“There now, what can I do to get you out?” 
she asked. ‘ i Why, you are all covered up with — ” 

“With roof,” the American laughed, “Yes, I’m 
pretty well buried, but I guess it won’t be all to- 
gether this time, now that you’ve suddenly 
dropped from the sky. I’ve one free arm, and I 
can help you if you can find out just how deep in 
I am.” 

Valerie felt the heavy pieces of wood that 
seemed to be resting on the man’s chest, and then 
her hand came into contact with something cold 
and damp. It wras a sandbag. 


100 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“I am afraid to pull for fear everything will 
come down,” she said, “and it is so dark I can’t 
see. But look, I can see a patch of gray sky up 
through here and it won’t be long now before we 
shall have light. Are you suffering very much?” 

“No, not a bit, never felt better in my life, or 
more comfortable,” the American replied cheer- 
fully in spite of the terrible pain in his right 
shoulder. “We’ll wait for the sun, and while we 
wait you can please explain just how you managed 
to arrive at this particular spot. Have you by 
any chance a wishing carpet?” 

“Oh, Monsieur, it is no time to joke,” Valerie 
chided, something terrible is going on up there. 
Just before I stumbled down these steps there 
was a whole cloud of fire and the guns began 
again. What does it mean, do you know?” 

“The attack. That fire you saw was barrage 
fire; was it a long way off?” The American 
tried to shift his position, and one of the bags 
slipped a little. 

“No, it was quite near,” Valerie replied. 

“H’m, sounds as if the Germans were putting 


THE EAT POINTS THE WAY 101 


it over; there’s a fight going on now hut there’s 
no telling much about it.” 

“How far away are we from the front trench, 
Monsieur?” 

“Not a very healthy distance. We’re just be- 
hind the last communication trench. There was 
an entrance into it before I left yesterday, hut it 
seems closed up now.” 

“The noise is not so loud, I can hardly hear it.” 

Valerie stood up and looked through the jagged 
hole in the roof at the sky. “The daylight is 
coming fast,” she said, “soon I will be able to 
move all that off of you.” 

“Oh, there goes that awful click, click noise 
again. What is it?” 

“Machine guns,” the American replied. 
“Come sit down and don’t go poking your head 
out of that hole. You might get in the way of 
something and then how’d I get out?” he laughed. 
“I declare, I can’t believe I’m not dreaming. 
Just a little while ago here I was smoking my last 
fag and making up my mind to die, and then you 
showed up.” 


102 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“That is easy to explain,’ ’ Valerie replied, and 
she told him about the events that had led up to 
her return. 

“And you mean to say you just jumped off 
that ambulance and walked back here just to save 
me? — Well, I’ll be darned! Why did you do it?” 

“I hardly know, I think it was to help you with 
the hospital supplies,” Valerie shrugged her 
shoulder. “Anyway here I am, and it is getting 
light. I think I can fix these logs now.” 

The American looked at her squarely, then he 
said, “You’re a wonder, whoever you are. I’m 
inclined to think you’re a sort of short-haired 
fairy, and if we are both killed before we get out 
of here I’ll be proud to die with such a plucky 
mate.” 

“But, Monsieur, what is your name, anyway?” 

“Billy Lathrop.” 

“Then, Monsieur Lathrop, we are not going to 
die,” Valerie laughed. It was not a nervous 
laugh, it was clear and fearless. 

“I think it is much too exciting to die just 


THE RAT POINTS THE WAY 103 


now,” she added as she stood np and began ex- 
amining the heavy logs. 

‘ 1 Bully for you, you just bet we won’t die!” 
Lathrop exclaimed. 4 ‘We’ll get those bandages 
back to Riva if we have to foot it all the way.” 

Valerie did not understand the slang he used, 
but she caught the spirit of the words. 

4 ‘Good, Monsieur; now how about this log? It 
is leaning up against the wall at this end, and — ” 

“And, on my chest at the other,” Lathrop fin- 
ished, “do you think you can move it?” 

“Yes, why not? Look, I will push it so.” She 
pushed the log a little, but the roof threatened to 
cave in as she did it, and she stopped, frightened. 

“It is easy to move, but see what will happen,” 
she said. 

“Well, we’ll have to take a chance,” Lathrop 
replied with determination, “clear oft the sand 
bags that are on my legs first.” 

Valerie obeyed. There were a collection of 
boards and a few stones as well, but she soon 
had them pushed to one side and the lower part of 


104 


VALERIE DUVAL 


Lathrop ’s body was free. He moved his legs and 
stretched them. They were numb. 

“Gee! That’s a whole lot better,” he said 
gratefully, “now let’s see about this.” 

“If I move it quickly do you think you could 
slip out?” Valerie suggested. 

Lathrop nodded. “Try it anyway,” he said, 
“it seems to be my lucky day.” 

Valerie lifted the end of the log as best she 
could. 

“Now quick,” she exclaimed as she pushed. 

There was a ripping sound, and then a dull thud 
as the end of the roof sagged and fell, but Lathrop 
threw himself clear. 

“That’s the ticket,” he announced cheerfully as 
he rubbed his arm and shoulder, “it’s something 
of a relief to have that load off a fellow’s chest.” 

Valerie nodded sympathetically. “It must 
have hurt, oh, very bad,” she said. “You were 
brave not to complain.” 

“Not a bit of it; look, there’s a lot more of the 
sky in view now, and there’s the sun behind the 
clouds, of course, as usual,” Lathrop pointed. 


THE RAT POINTS THE WAY 105 

Valerie looked. The hole in the roof was much 
larger, and through it a pale yellow sun was try- 
ing to shine through a bank of gray rain clouds. 

As they stood looking, glad to feel even so 
slight a ray in the dark cellar, they heard a 
hoise of running and shouting. 

‘‘What is it?” Valerie demanded. 

For answer Lathrop pulled her away from the 
hole and over towards the stairs. “Wait here,” 
he said, pushing her flat against the wall, “while I 
look.” 

He crept towards the steps to jump back sud- 
denly as two big men wearing the German trench 
helmets appeared in the doorway. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE BOOMERANG 



HERE was a breathless silence as Lathrop 


and Valerie waited against the wall. 


They could hear the men outside talking 
excitedly in German. At last one of them laughed 
and then came the welcome sound of their retreat- 
ing footsteps. Lathrop went again to the door 
and looked out. 

“Come over here, quick,’ ’ he said, as he re- 
turned to Valerie, “they think they’ve got a fine lit- 
tle idea in their heads, but we’re going to balk it.” 

' “Can you understand what they say?” Valerie 
demanded. 

“Well enough to get the hang of their plan,” 
Lathrop replied. “I know about as much Ger- 
man as I do French. Here, quick, under here,” he 
whispered as two shadows fell across the stone 
steps. 

He pulled Valerie down under the table that was 


106 


THE BOOMERANG 107 

turned over beside the wall. They huddled be- 
hind it and waited. 

The Germans entered. Apparently they 
thought they were quite alone, for they did not 
even bother to lower their voices. They spoke 
excitedly, and brushed right by the table without 
noticing, or bothering to look behind it. 

Lathrop had Valerie’s hand, and at each new 
exclamation from the Germans he would squeeze 
it excitedly, so that she knew that he understood 
something of what was going on. Through the 
cracks in the table they could see the two men 
plainly, as they walked over and investigated the 
hole in the roof. Their interest seemed to be 
more than just curiosity, for they began piling up 
the sandbags and supporting them with the heavy 
logs and the broken boards and boxes. When 
they had arranged a sort of platform that suited 
them they left the cellar. 

Valerie started to speak, but Lathrop put his 
hand over her mouth and whispered so low in her 
ear that she could hardly hear him, “Don’t move, 
they’re coming back.” 


108 


VALERIE DUVAL 


They waited for what seemed an age, and then 
the men returned with a third. They were carry- 
ing something. It proved to be a machine gun. 
Lathrop caught Valerie’s hand as he watched 
them lift it carefully on to the platform. They 
jostled each other and kept up an excited con- 
troversy all the time, and each one of them ran 
up the stairs and from his footsteps overhead 
Valerie knew that they were, in turn, inspecting 
the gun from the outside. When it was finally 
fixed to suit their ideas one of the men left. 
Then Lathrop leaned over and whispered : 
“We’re even.” 

Valerie nodded, although at the time she did not 
exactly understand what he meant. 

The men by the gun settled down comfortably 
on some of the sandbags and began to talk. 
Every now and then one of them would laugh. 
Valerie tried to make something out of their 
words, but she could not. She wished heartily 
that old Monsieur Duval had not been so strict in 
forbidding the lessons in German that Pierre’s 
tutor had suggested. She had to trust that her 


THE BOOMERANG 


109 


companion was making part of it out. At one 
time, just as one of the men laughed, he gave her 
hand such an angry squeeze that she felt he was 
understanding better than she had hoped. 

At last a sound, other than the voices of the 
Germans and the scuttling of rats over the floor, 
came to them. It was the quick thud, thud of men 
marching at double time. 

The Germans pushed their heads out of the hole, 
and under cover of the noise Lathrop whispered : 
“The French are retreating to meet their rein- 
forcements from Riva, then they will rally and 
advance. The gun is pointed towards them; do 
you see? When they come forward to attack, it 
will mow them down.” 

“Can we warn them?” Valerie demanded, “Oh, 
we must!” 

“Not a chance,” Lathrop replied, “but keep 
quiet, we’ll do something, that you can bet.” 

The running above them continued, and the 
Germans settled back on their sandbags to wait. 

Try as she could Valerie could not think of a 
way to interfere, and she was dreading the 


110 


VALERIE DUVAL 


thought of hiding there helpless while the gun did 
its terrible work, when Lathrop spoke to her 
again. There was so much noise going on over- 
head that they could speak with safety. 

* 1 Don’t follow me when I move,” he warned. 
“Stay where you are and don’t watch if you can 
help it. I’m going to try a little trick on Fritz 
over there, but I’d rather know you weren’t look- 
ing.” 

Valerie nodded. She had no intention of stay- 
ing where she was, but she did not bother to say 
so, and Lathrop took the nod as a promise. 

The tramping above them grew suddenly louder 
as the French marched directly over them; then 
fainter. They waited and listened. Before long 
a great cheer sounded. 

“They’ve met the reenforcements,” Lathrop 
whispered. “Now’s our chance, keep steady and 
if I need you, I will call.” 

As he finished speaking a shadow blotted out the 
light in the doorway. A German shouted an order 
down the steps, and disappeared. The men by 



Without thinking what she did she picked up Lathrop’s 
revolver and fired at once 


Page 111 


» 


THE BOOMERANG 


113 


the gun began to work hurriedly. Lathrop 
watched them intently. He was resting on one 
knee, his revolver held tight in one hand, and 
Valerie’s arm in the other. 

“Keep cool for Pete’s sake,” he said aloud. 
“Here’s where I interfere.” 

He jumped lightly over the table and fired twice. 
Valerie was close behind him. The two Germans 
fell forward over the gun. Lathrop pulled their 
limp bodies to the floor, threw his revolver down, 
and climbed up beside the gun. He swung it 
around until it pointed in the opposite direction. 
He was just going to fire it when once again the 
light from the door was blotted out. 

A bullet sang through the cellar and grazed 
Lathrop ’s cheek. Valerie was stung into sudden 
fury. Without thinking of what she did, she 
picked up Lathrop ’s revolver and fired it once. 
Another bullet came from the doorway, but it 
struck the wall away to the side. Valerie fired 
again. 

The form in the doorway swayed, and a big 


114 


VALERIE DUVAL 


German officer fell headlong down the stairs. In 
her excitement Valerie did not even look at 
him. She went to Lathrop. 

1 ‘He is quite dead,” she announced triumph- 
antly, then as she saw the blood coming from 
Lathrop ’s cheek, she said. 

‘ i Here, quick, sit down.” 

Lathrop pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed 
his face with it. 

“Oh, it’s nothing much,” he said. “I’m all 
right now. Here, tie this around my head for 
me, will you? ” 

Valerie carefully tied the handkerchief, and 
Lathrop went back to the gun. “See them?” he 
pointed as Valerie climbed up beside him. 

She looked out of the opening. A solid line of 
Germans were rushing towards them, bayonets 
fixed, and from a little behind them she could hear 
the French advancing. 

Lathrop gritted his teeth, for the wound in his 
cheek made him dizzy, and began firing. 

The front rank of the Germans wavered and 
fell, but their places were soon taken by others, 


THE BOOMERANG 


115 


but again Lathrop mowed them down with the 
gun, only pausing to reload it when the round of 
ammunition gave out. 

Valerie watched him and helped when she 
could, but most of the time she kept her eyes 
fastened on the oncoming Germans. They had 
just finished reloading for the third time, when 
suddenly everything went black in the cellar. 
One of the German bombers had located the gun. 

When Valerie opened her eyes she was dazed 
and frightened, but not hurt. She called to 
Lathrop, but he did not answer. He was lying 
on his face at her feet. Outside the Germans 
seemed to be coming on faster than ever. 

At sight of them Valerie’s brain seemed to 
clear. She went to the gun and did exactly what 
she had seen Lathrop do. To her joy the gun re- 
sponded to her touch, and she swept the Huns be- 
fore her. Men fell one above the other, the lines 
wavered, then broke, and the Germans turned their 
backs and ran. Valerie kept on firing the gun un- 
til the ammunition gave out, then with a feeling 
almost akin to ecstasy she saw the blue coats of 


116 


VALERIE DUVAL 


the French soldiers surge past her in pursuit. 

There seemed nothing more for her to do, so 
she turned to Lathrop. He was lying very still. 
She was almost afraid to touch him for fear of 
what she would find, but a faint flicker of his 
eyebrow showed her that he was alive. She spoke 
to him, but he did not answer. There was an 
ugly wound in the back of his head. 

For the first time Valerie noticed the three 
dead Germans. They looked very stiff and grue- 
some in the half light, and she was suddenly ter- 
rified. She lifted Lathrop up under his arms 
and dragged him to the door and up the steps. 
The clouds had vanished from the sky and the sun 
was shining. The last of the French were well 
off after the Germans. 

Valerie sat down beside Lathrop and began 
to cry. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE RETURN TO RIVA 

T WO stretcher-bearers found her a little 
later, sound asleep with her head buried 
in her arm. They were American boys, 
and the sight of her rendered them very nearly 
speechless. 

“What under the sun — ” one of them ex- 
claimed. 

“Why, it’s a girl, and that’s old Lathrop beside 
her, or I miss my guess,” the other replied. 

They hurried forward and one of them roused 
her gently. Valerie opened her eyes and stared 
at him, then as the memory of the last few hours 
returned to her she jumped up. 

“I was asleep,” she exclaimed in dismay, “when 
I should have been finding some one to help him.” 
She pointed to Lathrop and knelt down quickly 


117 


118 


VALERIE DUVAL 


beside him. “He is not dead,” she added joy- 
fully, “see I can feel his heart beat. Quick, take 
him to a doctor.” 

The stretcher-bearers nodded and lifted Lathrop 
onto a stretcher. 

“Are you strong enough to walk?” one of them 
inquired of Valerie. 

“Oh, but yes, there is nothing wrong with me. 
I was just dazed a little perhaps. I will never 
forgive myself for going to sleep,” she said sadly 
as the men walked back with the stretcher. 

An ambulance was waiting in the road beyond 
the village. 

“Where are you going to take him?” Valerie 
demanded. 

“Riva, that’s the nearest dressing station,” the 
men told her. 

“Oh, good, that is where I come from,” Valerie 
exclaimed, “did they get bandages and a doctor?” 

“Yes, they sent out a hurry call to the base and 
a whole cart load arrived by noon.” 

Valerie looked up at the sky. 

“Is it so late as that?” she said, “it seems 


THE RETURN TO RIVA 119 

only a few minutes ago that I was waiting for 
dawn.” 

Lathrop stirred on his stretcher, and one of the 
men spoke to him. 

“All right, old man, we’ve got you safe and 
sound. A short run and then you’ll be between 
the sheets.” 

Lathrop paid no attention to his words. 
“Where is she?” he demanded, trying to sit up. 

“Oh, I am here, Monsieur,” Valerie hurried to 
him, “please do not fret.” 

“Are you safe? I’ve been seeing you dead for 
hours, and I couldn’t seem to call.” 

“Yes, yes, I am perfectly safe. You were 
hurt, but I wasn’t. After the cellar got all black, 
you remember, I came to, and at first I was a little 
dizzy, but it was nothing.” 

“Drat it!” Lathrop tossed feverishly. “To 
think it had to get me just at that moment, and all 
that beautiful ammunition wasted.” 

“No, never fear,” Valerie put her hand on his 
shoulder and patted it. “It was not wasted. I 
fired it, every little speck, and the Germans ran 


120 


VALERIE DUVAL 


away, and our boys went after them. I think / 9 
she added with a little laugh, 1 ‘they will chase 
them all the way to Berlin . 9 9 

Lathrop dropped back on his stretcher and 
grinned contentedly. “You certainly are a won- 
der/ 9 he said feelingly. “Home, James !” he 
waved his arm to the driver of the ambulance. 

The ride back to Riva was a very rough one. 
Valerie decided that there were twice as many 
holes as there had been when she had traveled it, 
so short a time ago as the night before. Lathrop 
lost consciousness on the way, and did not come to 
again until he was in bed in the dining-room of 
the estaminet. 

The new doctor dressed his wounds and Valerie 
stood by to help. She flatly refused to go to bed 
herself. In a vague sort of way she was trying 
to punish herself for sleeping in the early part of 
the afternoon. As no one knew very much about 
what she had gone through they did not insist; 
there were too few hands as it was to refuse the 
help of an extra pair. 

It was not until nearly noon the next day that 


THE EETUEN TO EIVA 121 

the doctor sent for her. Madame Lefevre found 
her in the shed that served as a kitchen, where 
she was busy boiling some water. 

“Leave that,” Madame ordered. “The doctor 
wants you in a great hurry. He’s waiting in the 
ward.” 

Valerie dried her hands and went into the house. 

The doctor was sitting beside Lathrop when she 
came in. Beside him was the French Captain — 
he had been wounded in one arm the day before, 
but was not ill enough to occupy one of the pre- 
cious mattresses, so he said, and he insisted upon 
staying up and helping the doctor. Both of them 
looked up as Valerie entered, and waited respect- 
fully at the foot of Lathrop ’s mattress. 

“You are to go to bed at once,” the doctor 
announced with decision, “and not a word out of 
you. This afternoon we will send you on to the 
base hospital.” 

“And from there home,” the Captain added. 

“But why, I should like to know?” Valerie pro- 
tested indignantly. “I am not sick, I am not 
wounded even a little tiny scratch.” 


122 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“I told you so,” Lathrop grinned with the only 
comer of his mouth that was visible, and his eyes 
twinkled. 

The Captain put his hand on Valerie’s shoulder. 

< ‘Monsieur here has told us everything, ma 
petite,’ ’ he said gently. * ‘ There are no words in 
which we can express our feelings, the doctor 
and I, that’s why we are gruff. You have saved 
many lives by your bravery, and turned a loss 
into victory. No one will ever appreciate all you 
have done, and surely there is no thanks great 
enough. ’ ’ 

“But then — then why must I go to bed?” Valer- 
ie’s voice faltered, and she tried not to sob, but 
the Captain’s words made a lump in her throat. 

The doctor laughed and replied in English: 
“Because, you plucky little thing, you’re dead 
tired and don’t know it. You’d go on working, 
and then suddenly, some fine day, you’d go all to 
smithereens, and then it would be very hard to 
make you well again, and we don’t want that.” 

“I should say not,” Lathrop agreed. “Why, I 
might get into a tight hole again, and then where 


THE RETURN TO RIVA 


123 


would I be if you weren’t around to haul me out? 
Go on now, be a good kid and do what the doctor 
tells you,” he begged. 

Valerie looked from one to the other of the three 
men. 

“Then if I go to the hospital, they won’t keep 
me there very long, will they, and when I get 
back you will let me go on working?” she asked. 

“What is it?” the Captain inquired in French. 

Valerie explained, and added, “Please, please, 
Captain, don’t tell my mother. She will be so 
worried. I will write her a letter saying I am 
well and safe.” 

“No, that would not be quite fair, and besides 
I have already promised Madame, your mother, 
to take care of you. I have not kept my promise 
so far, but I will. She will not make you go home 
unless you wish. But come now, it would be nice 
to see her some day, — say, two dayls from now, be- 
side your bed — wouldn’t it?” 

Valerie’s eyes filled with tears. Just at that 
moment the sight of her mother was the one thing 
in the world she most wanted. She nodded to 


124 VALERIE DUVAL 

the Captain and turned back to the doctor. 

“I will go if you say I must,” she said. “But 
please, please, don’t make me lie down now. I 
am afraid to I am so very tired, I would hate to get 
up again.” 

“Thought as much,” the doctor replied shortly, 
“well all right, the ambulance will be leaving soon, 
so sit here and talk to Lathrop.” 

Valerie thanked him and sat down on the edge 
of the table that supported Lathrop ’s mattress. 
The doctor and the Captain went outside to con- 
sult about something, and it was not until they 
were quite out of hearing that Valerie began to 
wonder how the Captain had found out where her 
mother lived. It was a mystery that was never 
explained. 

Lathrop had to do most of the talking for Val- 
erie was too tired. 

“Say,” he began, “I haven’t really thanked you 
for saving my life, you know, but of course I am 
awfully obliged. I didn’t think I’d mind losing 
it much when I first came over, but — well, you’ll 


THE RETURN TO RIVA 125 

never know just how glad I was to hear your voice 
when I was trying to hold up the roof.” 

Valerie laughed. 

“I was as glad to see the tiny glow of your ciga- 
rette, I can promise you. I thought I was all alone 
with the rats,” she said. “And what would have 
become of me without you when the Germans 
came?” she added with a shudder. Her eyes had 
a look of sudden terror. “Monsieur Lathrop,” 
she said gravely, “I killed that big man with your 
gun — do you remember? — I, Valerie Duval, killed 
a man.” 

“You bet you did,” Lathrop spoke lightly, 
“you’re a good shot, too. If you hadn’t been, 
well, neither of us would be sitting here quietly 
discussing the price of potatoes. You saved my 
life twice within a couple of hours — ” he whistled. 
“I can’t thank you for it; no use trying, but, well 
I can tell you who would.” 

He put his hand in the pocket of his coat that 
was hanging on a chair by the bed, and pulled out 
a leather picture frame. Valerie opened it. A 


126 


VALERIE DUVAL 


smiling face of an old lady looked up at her from 
one side, and a pair of serious, troubled eyes met 
her as she looked at the other. 

4 ‘Your mother ?” she asked. 

Lathrop nodded. “Yes, and the best one in 
the whole world at that,” he said proudly. 

Valerie pointed to the other picture. “And is 
she your sister?” she asked. 

“Well, not exactly,” Lathrop flushed. “She’s 
a little more than that. You see, she’s going 
to be Mrs. Lathrop some day when this war’s 
over. ’ ’ 

Valerie clapped her hands delightedly. 

“Oh, she is your fiancee, I understand. Oh, 
Monsieur ! I am glad that I found you yesterday 
for both of them,” she exclaimed. “Tell me 
about them please?” 

Lathrop once started was hard to stop. He 
extolled the virtues of the two women dearest to 
him in the world until Valerie almost felt as if she 
knew them. 

“And to think that you will see your mother 
soon,” he added. “Lucky you.” 


THE RETURN TO RIVA 


127 


“ Yes, I am lucky/ ’ Valerie replied, “I did not 
know how homesick I was until just now when the 
Captain spoke.” 

There was a noise outside at this point. The 
ambulances were getting ready to start. Valerie 
watched the stretcher-bearers take out the 
wounded one by one until the room looked 
deserted. The Doctor and the Captain re- 
turned. 

“Get ready, ma chere,” the Captain said. 
“You are going with me. I have to go myself 
on account of my arm, so we will go together in an 
automobile. It will be more comfortable, and I 
want to see you safe in the hospital.” 

“I have nothing to get ready with, Captain,” 
Valerie laughed. “Unless I change into my boy’s 
suit.” 

“No, no, come as you are then,” the Captain re- 
plied. “The car is ready.” 

“Good-by,” Valerie took Lathrop’s hand in 
hers. “We will see each other soon, I hope.” 

6 ‘ Good-by , 9 9 Lathr op replied gr avely. “You ’re 
the best little sport that ever lived, and I won’t 


128 


VALERIE DUVAL 


forget the debt I owe you in a hurry.’ ’ He 
squeezed her hand. 

6 1 And I will not forget you ever, Monsieur,” 
Valerie promised. “And now, good-by until we 
meet again.” 

The ride to the big, comfortable hospital far 
away from the front was a long trip, and when 
Valerie and the Captain arrived it was late at 
night. 

A nurse met them at the door and embraced 
Valerie tenderly. News of her bravery had trav- 
eled before her, and every one in the hospital was 
eager to do everything in their power for her. 
She was put to bed in a little room at the top of 
the house where she would be quiet. It was one 
of the nurse’s rooms, but Valerie never knew that. 
All she saw was a trim bed with clean white sheets 
that waited invitingly to receive her tired little 
body. She was soon bathed and in it. She was 
almost too tired to eat the tempting supper pre- 
pared for her. 

The matron, a very erect, gray-haired French 
woman, came in the last thing and kissed her good- 


THE RETURN TO RIVA 


129 


night. When she turned out the light and closed 
the door behind her, Valerie snuggled down grate- 
fully between the cool sheets. 

“I am happy, ” she whispered to the four walls, 
“oh, so happy! I have served my France, and 
I have saved a man’s life twice, just as Helen 
Carey saved the life of Lieutenant Fielding.” 

With a happy smile on her lips she dropped off 
into a sound refreshing sleep. 


CHAPTEE Xm 


THE CROIX DE GUERRE 


(4 



AM A! Mama!” 

Valerie opened her eyes and found 
herself looking straight into Madame 


Duval's. 

It was the third day of her stay at the hospital 
and she was very much better. Some of the 
drawn lines about her mouth and eyes had disap- 
peared, but she was still very pale and weak. The 
reaction of that long night and day had set in, 
as the doctor had said it would. 

Madame Duval dropped to her knees beside the 
bed, and took her daughter in her arms. 

“Valerie! Valerie!” was all she could find to 
say as she kissed her. 

‘ ‘ When did you come ? ’ ’ Valerie demanded. ‘ 1 1 
was dreaming of you this very minute, and of 
Pierre. How is he?” 


130 


THE CROIX DE GUERRE 


131 


“He is very proud of his little sister,’ ’ Madame 
Duval said, “and so is grandpapa. How you 
would laugh to see him strut about and talk of his 
granddaughter, a true Duval.” 

“I think I can,” Valerie laughed. “I am so 
glad he is proud of me, though, of course, being a 
girl, I have done very little. But they wouldn’t 
take me for a soldier, you know.” 

“Yes, I know,” her mother replied gravely. 
“The Captain wrote me all about it. Oh, Valerie, 
if you knew how we worried, how terrified we were 
the morning after you left! If it had not been 
for Lieutenant Fielding, I think I would have gone 
mad.” 

Valerie sat up in bed. “What did Lieutenant 
Fielding do?” she demanded. 

“He traced you to Riva, and found out you were 
safe,” her mother replied. 

“Do you mean to say he followed me?” Valerie 
insisted. 

“No, no, of course not, he could not leave like 
that, though he did want to, — he had become very 
fond of you, dear child, in those few days, — I had 


132 


VALERIE DUVAL 


no idea, — and he was quite distracted. He went 
directly to his Colonel, and between them we found 
out where you were. Then came your letter and 
the Cap tain 7 s . 77 

‘ ‘ But why didn 7 t you make me come home V 7 Va- 
lerie interrupted. 

“Why, my dear, I could not do that. If you 
wanted to go so much I could not keep you. 
France comes first ; and see now what a service you 
have rendered her. 7 7 

Valerie nodded. “I have done a little, yes , 7 7 
she admitted. 

“And will you come home now, back to Vinon ? 77 

“For a little while, yes, I must see my Pierre , 77 
Valerie replied eagerly. “Oh, Mama, I have been 
so homesick and so frightened since I left, you 
will never know . 7 7 

Madame Duval looked at her, and something in 
her eyes made Valerie doubt the truth of her own 
words. 

A knock at the door interrupted them. The 
matron, Madame Conde, came in, smiling. 

“How is the little heroine to-day ? 77 she in- 


THE CROIX DE GUERRE 133 

quired, “well enough to go out into the garden 
for a little while!” 

“Oh, yes, sister,” Valerie exclaimed joyfully, 
“I would love to go out.” 

“I thought so. Well, rest until after luncheon, 
and then I will come back and take you down there. 
But — ” she added mysteriously — “you must 
promise to keep very calm if there is any excite- 
ment,” and she added, laughing, “I have an idea 
there will be. ’ ’ 

“Oh, what!” Valerie begged, “please, please, 
tell me!” 

“Not a word,” Madame Conde shook her head. 
‘ ‘ There you go getting excited now, and it is barely 
noon.” And without another word she left the 
room. 

“Mama, do you know what is going to hap- 
pen!” Valerie demanded. 

But Madame would only shake her head and 
smile. 

At two o’clock Valerie went down to the garden 
between her mother and one of the nurses. She 
was dressed in a simple white frock that Madame 


134 


VALERIE DUVAL 


Duval had brought to her, and with her short 
curly hair she looked far younger than her six- 
teen years. 

The garden was at the back of the hospital, and 
many of the soldiers were sitting about among the 
flowers, in comfortable steamer chairs. 

Almost the first person that Valerie saw was 
the corporal. His right foot was bandaged, and 
a pair of crutches stood beside his chair. At sight 
of Valerie he got up and hobbled to her. 

“The little soldier !” he said excitedly. “Com- 
rades, here she is !” 

A cheer rose from the lawn, and Valerie was 
surrounded by a group of admiring men. They 
shook her hand eagerly and gazed at her with gen- 
uine devotion. 

The Captain made his way through the group to 
her. His arm was in a black sling, and he wore a 
new and spotless uniform. 

“You are better, so much better, I can see it,” 
he said, bowing very respectfully, “but you are 
not quite well. Come and sit down over here.” 

He led her to the end of the garden where a 


THE CROIX DE GUERRE 


135 

number of officers, all with either a leg or face 
bandaged, sat smoking. 

“Sit here,” he said, pushing a big chair into 
the warm sunshine. 

Valerie was very much confused at so much 
attention. 

“Oh, thank you, please don’t bother,” she said, 
and let her mother and the officers do the talking. 

After a few minutes the Captain said. 

“Here comes a friend of yours.” 

Valerie turned and looked. Lathrop in a wheel- 
chair was being pushed towards her by a smiling 
sister. 

“Hello there!” he called to her. “I hoped 
you’d be here for the fireworks, — oh, that is, the 
tea party; he corrected as the Captain gave him 
a warning look. 

Valerie did not notice anything strange in his 
words. She had long ago decided that the meet- 
ing of all of her friends was the explanation of 
Madame Conde’s mystery. She lost all feeling 
of embarrassment at sight of Lathrop, and chat- 
tered to him eagerly. They were so busy going 


136 


VALERIE DUVAL 


over their adventure together, that Valerie did 
not notice the excitement that was going on 
behind her, and she was very much startled 
to hear a band playing the strains of the Mar- 
seillaise. 

She jumped to her feet at once, and the officers 
about her saluted and stood at attention. 

The sweeping driveway was in view of the gar- 
den, and as Valerie looked she saw a detachment 
of men preceded by a military band, marching 
towards her. The band stopped at the side of the 
hospital, and Valerie saw to her joy the staunch 
figure of the bravest and best loved General of 
France standing in the small group of officers. 
She was so surprised that she hardly noticed that 
the soldiers lined up five on a side making a path- 
way to him. But she came to her senses with a 
start when the Captain took her arm and led her 
gently forward. 

“Where are you going?” she demanded, con- 
scious that every eye was upon her. 

“The General wishes to speak to you,” the Cap- 
tain told her quite calmly. He was responsible 


THE CROIX DE GUERRE 


137 


for the surprise, and he was delighted at the way 
his silence had turned out. 

Valerie walked as if she were in a dream. As 
she came to the double line of men she stopped, 
for the Captain had dropped her arm and was 
walking away from her. 

At a command the men before her pulled out 
their swords and crossed them over the path. 
With her heart throbbing excitedly, Valerie 
walked beneath their glittering blades. 

The general was waiting for her. 

“Valerie Duval,” he said. “I decorate you in 
the name of France for your splendid courage and 
bravery,” he began, but something in Valerie’s 
ridiculously youthful appearance made him stop. 
He took both her hands in his and shook them. 
“You look too small to be so brave,” he laughed, 
then he added gravely, “but I think in your eyes I 
see the spirit that must have shone in the eyes 
of Jeanne d’Arc, the dauntless courage and love 
for France.” 

He stopped. Valerie was trembling like a leaf, 
and his words hummed in her ears. 


138 VALERIE DUVAL 

The General motioned to one of his officers who 
handed him a small cross hung on a ribbon. The 
General pinned it reverently on the front of Va- 
lerie’s dress. He drew his sword and touched her 
shoulder with the tip of it, then he kissed her on 
both cheeks. 

The band started to play, and the soldiers 
cheered lustily. 

Valerie never knew how she got back to her 
mother, she was so flustered. Her eyes were 
bright with tears as she watched some of the sol- 
diers line up along the path and receive their 
decorations. 

Lathrop was the first. The General had a 
special word for him, too. Then came the aston- 
ished Captain, and last of all the corporal, who 
had showed great bravery in the charge. 

Valerie tried hard not to let the tears fall, for 
she felt that this was no time to be a cry baby, but 
it was difficult, and one stole gently down her cheek 
as she looked proudly at the medal, the coveted 
Croix de Guerre, as it lay on the folds of her white 
dress. 


CHAPTER XIV 


WITH PIERRE 

4 ‘r | ^lELL me everything, every single thing,’ ’ 
Pierre demanded. “I have heard noth- 
ing but a few skinny facts.” 

“Of course I will,” Valerie laughed. “But do 
let us wait until we are home at least.” 

She was sitting in the little donkey cart opposite 
her brother, and they were climbing up the long 
hill to the farm. At sight of the familiar land- 
marks, she pressed her mother’s hand excitedly. 

“Oh, it is so good to be home!” she exclaimed. 
“I thought the train intended to poke on forever.” 

“You were not very eager to leave,” her mother 
teased. “Only imagine Pierre, when your big 
sister, who has been a real heroine, left the hos- 
pital, she cried like a baby.” 

“I don’t blame you a bit,” Pierre replied, tak- 
ing Valerie’s hand. “I would have cried too. 
But tell me, did some high-up officers thank you 


139 


140 


VALERIE DUVAL 


for what you did?” he inquired. “ I have been 
thinking perhaps you will receive a decoration.” 

Valerie and her mother exchanged glances. 
* ‘ Oh, come now, Pierre, your imagination will run 
away with you,” Valerie teased. “I will tell you 
everything when we get home.” 

i ‘ Then I must wait, I suppose,” Pierre sighed. 

During Valerie’s absence, his eyes had lost 
their wistfulness, and in its place there was a look 
of pride and joy. 

“What a shame it is that i Shoulders’ will not 
be here to listen, too,” he said presently. 

“Shoulders?” Valerie inquired, “who is he?” 

“Why, Lieutenant Fielding, of course,” Pierre 
laughed; “that is his nickname. You see, he is 
mostly all shoulders, and that is why he asked me 
to call him that. You know, he’s my very good 
friend, and he’s going to be always and always.” 

“Isn’t Lieutenant Fielding still here?” Valerie 
asked slowly. Something had suddenly gone out 
of the golden October day. 

“No. Didn’t Mama tell you?” Pierre replied. 
“He was transferred to the Engineers, and is up 


WITH PIERRE 


141 


in the north now near the English lines. I call it 
plucky of him to do it. ’ ’ 

“Why did he?” Valerie asked. 

“Because he wanted to get near the front where 
there was something doing. He was tired of drill, 
drill, drill. ’ ’ 

“Are Captain Webb and Lieutenant Carey still 
here?” Valerie inquired. 

“Oh, yes, they are very envious of ‘Shoulders/ 
but they had to stay at their posts. They are very 
anxious to see you. Lieutenant Carey has a brave 
sister, too. ’ 9 

“Yes, I know; Helen / 9 Valerie said. 

“Who told you!” Pierre demanded. 

“Lieutenant Fielding. She saved his life 
twice.” 

“Oh, I know that, and she is going to marry 
Captain Webb some day. Did he tell you that 
too?” 

Valerie nodded. 

“Well, I think she’s a great silly,” Pierre con- 
tinued. “Just imagine marrying Captain Webb 
and not ‘Shoulders/ ” 


142 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“Perhaps Lieutenant Fielding didn’t want to 
marry her,” Madame Duval suggested, laughing. 

“Of course he did not,” Pierre agreed, “or he 
would have. He gets what he wants most always, 
I shouldn’t wonder,” he added. 

Valerie laughed. 

‘ ‘ Oh, Pierre, you always do make out the people 
you love to be saints,” she teased. “Do hurry 
that stupid beast along. See, we are almost home, 
and there is grandpapa.” 

Old Monsieur Duval was leaning on the gate 
watching the road eagerly. At first sight of the 
cart he waved his stick over his head. Valerie 
waved back. She was soon in his arms, and he 
was saying a great many things that might have 
turned a granddaughter ’s head, had it contained 
less wisdom and common-sense than Valerie’s 
curly one. 

“Come, come, no more now,” Madame Duval 
protested, interrupting the flow of words. “The 
child is tired and must go inside.” 

They walked up the garden path and into the 
house, all talking excitedly. 


WITH PIERRE 


143 


Valerie was tired out from her trip, and was 
only too glad to sit down in the big comfortable 
chair that her mother fixed for her on the terrace. 
As soon as she was comfortably settled, Pierre 
sat down on a stool beside her. 

“Now begin,’ ’ he said. 

Valerie looked at him for a minute in silence. 

4 4 V ery well, dear, ’ ’ she said. 4 4 But before I say 
a word, you must promise to remember that every- 
thing I did, I did in your name. I was thinking 
of you; that gave me courage. I went to take 
your place, and if I did well it was because of 
you — will you promise to remember?” 

“I promise, yes,” Pierre replied gravely. 

Valerie told him the story of her adventures, 
beginning with the night she cut off her hair, 
and ending with the day in the hospital gar- 
den. 

“And here is my Croix de Guerre,” she said. 
“I kept it hidden so that I would not have to tell 
my story backwards. Here, let me pin it on your 
coat, for it rightly belongs to you.” 

“No, no,” Pierre protested, “it does not, it is 


144 


VALERIE DUVAL 


yours. I could never have been so brave. Pin it 
on your dress and never take it off. ’ ’ 

“But I won it for you,” Valerie insisted. 

“Then wear it for me ; do you think I could take 
it? No, never in a thousand years. I want to see 
it on you every time I look at you. ’ ’ 

Pierre ’s eyes were shining with excitement. He 
took the medal from Valerie, and with clumsy , 
trembling fingers pinned it on her dress. Then 
he caught the sound of men marching. 

“Here they come!” he exclaimed joyfully. 
“The boys — do you hear them? They are back 
from their hike. I must go to meet them.” 

Valerie nodded, and he hurried off, his crutches 
clicking faster than she had ever heard them be- 
fore. She was looking down at her medal and 
thinking, when Captain Webb and Lieutenant 
Carey joined her. 

“Well, here’s the little heroine — welcome 
home ! ’ ’ the Captain exclaimed, shaking her hand. 
“My, but I’m proud to know you!” 

“And look at her cross,” Lieutenant Carey 
added. “I’ve only heard a few scraps, but 


WITH PIERRE 145 

they’re enough to make me tremble before such 
nerve. How did you do it? Tell us all about it. ” 

“Oh, Lieutenant how can you talk so,” Valerie 
protested, “when you have a sister braver than I 
am.” 

“Who, Missy? Shucks, she’d be the first to 
think you were the winner,” Lieutenant Carey 
laughed. “You did far more than she ever did, 
but that doesn’t mean I’m not proud of her too.” 

“And you, Captain?” Valerie teased. “Do 
you think I am braver, too?” she asked, laughing 
mischievously. 

Captain Webb was saved the embarrassment of 
replying by a shout that came from the barn. 
Pierre returned, excited and out of breath. 

“Valerie, I have told them,” he exclaimed, “and 
they want to see you and your medal. Do you 
mind?” 

Valerie jumped up. “Mind? Of course not. 
I am glad, silly. I will go to them. ’ ’ 

The Americans received her a little shyly at 
first, but they looked at her medal with genuine 
interest and respect. 


146 


VALEKIE DUVAL 


“We sure do congratulate you, ma’am,” Good- 
win said, speaking for them all. i 1 And I guess the 
boys you saved do, too. That was some stunt 
swinging the gun around, if you don’t mind me 
saying so,” he added. 

Valerie had not quite understood all the slang 
he used, but she smiled. “You would have liked 
to see the Germans run,” she said. “I think they 
must be running yet.” 

“And you fired the gun yourself?” Lieutenant 
Carey asked. He and the Captain had followed 
her to the barn. 

“Yes, the last time, after Monsieur Lathrop 
was wounded,” she replied. “It was very easy, 
it was a little gun, you know. ’ 9 

The men regarded her in silent admiration, and 
then led by Goodwin they gave her three long 
cheers. 

i 1 Oh, dear !” Valerie said when they had stopped 
and she was back in the terrace; “I do wish they 
wouldn’t do it. It makes me feel so silly.” 

Captain Webb laughed. “Now I should think 
it would make you proud. If you don’t want to 


WITH PIERRE 147 

be treated as the heroine you are, you mustn’t 
wear your cross, and I’d advise you to keep in- 
doors.” 

“Oh, it isn’t that I don’t like it,” Valerie pro- 
tested; “only, well, you can’t understand — any- 
way it is good to be home again, and I am so glad 
you are here,” she added graciously. “I miss 
Lieutenant Fielding though. Do you hear from 
him?” 

“Not much. He’s pretty busy, I guess,” Lieu- 
tenant Carey replied. “You know he’s with the 
Engineers now. Captain Webb is going over too, 
in a few days, and I will be all alone.” 

Valerie turned to the Captain. “Are you 
really ? Oh, I am so sorry. W e will miss you. ’ ’ 

“Well, I am mighty sorry to leave,” Captain 
Webb replied. “I’ve had a splendid time here.” 

‘ ‘ When do you leave ? ’ ’ Pierre asked. 

“In a day or two. I have not had my orders 
yet, but I expect them any time.” 

Madame Duval interrupted them at this point, 
for it was growing chilly and she wanted Valerie 
to go upstairs. 


148 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“You will be so tired to-morrow if you don’t 
rest, dear,” she said. “And besides, grandpapa 
has been very busy in your room, and I am curious 
to find out what he has been doing.” 

“I wondered where he was all this time,” Va- 
lerie said as she got up. “We will go this minute 
and see. ’ ’ She said good-night to the officers and 
kissed Pierre. “Play for me on your flute to- 
night,” she whispered, “I will listen for it.” 

Her brother nodded happily, and she went up 
the stairs with her mother. At the door of her 
room she stopped. 

“Mama, see what he has done!” she exclaimed, 
and pointed to the bed. 

A sword, of an old fashioned design, but 
brightly polished, hung from the wall above the 
head board. It was the sword of the Duvals, 
and the old gentleman’s silent tribute to his grand- 
daughter’s valor. 


CHAPTER XV 


TWO LETTERS 

T HE excitement over Valerie’s return sub- 
sided at the end of ten days, and life at the 
Duval farm went on as usual. Captain 
Webb left to join Lieutenant Fielding farther 
north, and his absence made a great difference on 
the hill. Two new officers from the village came 
to occupy the two empty rooms, but they could in 
no way be said to fill the places of either of the or- 
iginal tenants. 

Valerie and Pierre spent all their spare time 
with Lieutenant Carey, and gave him their un- 
divided attention and thought. Valerie was com- 
pletely recovered. The color was back in her 
cheeks, and she gained the pounds she had lost. 
With the return of her strength she began to fret 
at the inaction of the peaceful days. She had 
had one glimpse of the war, and it made her im- 

149 


150 


VALERIE DUVAL 


patient to get back. There was not enough to do 
on the farm, and whenever she did find a task that 
satisfied her, soldiers seemed to spring from the 
ground to do it for her. But it is probable that 
she would have gone on, had not the advent of two 
letters on a sunshiny afternoon made a return to 
service possible. 

Pierre had driven Valerie down to the postoffice 
in the donkey cart, more for the drive than from 
any real hope of letters. To their delight, how- 
ever, the old postmistress handed them out two 
envelopes, one was addressed to Pierre and the 
other to Valerie. They opened them excitedly. 

“Oh, how wonderful !” Valerie exclaimed. 
“That nice Monsieur Lathrop!” She looked up 
eagerly to see Pierre’s face the picture of woe.. 
“What is it?” she demanded. 

“There has been an attack,” he said slowly. 
“And my brave ‘ Shoulders’ has been wounded. 
He is writing from the hospital. ’ ’ 

“Oh!” the light left Valerie’s face at once, 
“read me what he says,” she begged. 

‘ ‘ V ery well, ’ ’ Pierre said. 4 * Listen. ’ ’ 


TWO LETTERS 


151 


“Dear Pierre , and all the rest of the folks 
on the hill: 

“You probably know by this time that we have 
at last gotten into the scrap. It was an accident, 
but that made it all the better. We were all work- 
ing hard, one day, repairing a road. I was with 
Captain Webb, and we had a full company at work. 
I can’t give names, it is not allowed, but we were 
between the German and English lines. Well, sir, 
before we knew it, we were right in the middle of 
a big attack. 

“It was great. Our boys threw down their 
shovels, grabbed guns from the dead Boches, and 
for a while we had a pretty hot time. The Eng- 
lish were certainly giving them a good chase, and 
we were sure glad to join in. I got a bullet in 
my head and a couple in my shoulder, but I ’ll be 
well again in no time. I’m very comfortable here 
in this hospital, but I’ll have to be moving soon 
to a base ; don’t know where just yet. I will make 
a strong bid to stay in France, as my sad experi- 
ence in crossing the ocean makes me dread the 
thought of the English Channel. (No, son, if you 


152 


VALERIE DUVAL 


are thinking of submarines yon ’re way off. I was 
seasick, that’s all.) 

“Captain Webb was not hurt, I think, so I sup- 
pose he is back at work. He told me all about 
your sister’s winning the Croix de Guerre, but I 
wasn’t much surprised; I knew she had it in her. 
Please tell her for me that I think she is all right. 

“My regard to all the folks. 

“Your sincere friend, 

“ ‘Shoulders’ Fielding.” 

“P. S. If I get those bullets, after the doctor 
takes them out, I’ll send them to you as I prom- 
ised.” 

‘ ‘ Think of that ! ’ ’ Pierre exclaimed. “ Is he not 
brave and fine? And what a fight it must have 
been — glorious, I call it ! ” 

“Oh, Pierre, no!” Valerie protested. “No 
fight is glorious, I know, for I have been there and 
seen. It is all mud and noise and fire, terrible 
beyond words. I almost wish the big Lieutenant 
were so wounded that he could not return.” 

Pierre looked his disgust. 


TWO LETTERS 


153 


“You had better not tell him so; he is crazy to 
go back. Can ’t you hear from his letter ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, I suppose so, and of course he is very 
brave,” Valerie said slowly. 

They got back into the cart and started for 
home. It was not until they were half-way up the 
hill that Valerie remembered her letter. Pierre 
drew her attention to it. 

“It made you very happy,” he said, “what is 
it?” 

“101 read it,” Valerie replied. “It is from the 
head of a hospital at Fleurette, an American girl, 
who is a friend of Monsieur Lathrop. This is 
what she says : 

“Dear Miss Duval: 

“I have been hearing so much about you from 
Mr. Lathrop that I want to write and tell you how 
splendid I think you are, and to ask you if you 
would accept a position here in our hospital when 
you are well enough. Billy says you want to do 
something more, as if you hadn’t done enough all 
ready, and I can ’t tell you how glad we ’d be, here 


154 


VALERIE DUVAL 


at Fleurette, if you would come and help us. We 
are very short of nurses just now, so many of ours 
have gone out as ambulance drivers. You do not 
need any nurse’s degrees to prove your worth. 
We know all about the hospital you organized in 
fifteen minutes in the dining-room of that old ruin 
where you lived. Billy said when you spoke Eng- 
lish to him, he nearly died of joy; that is one of 
the reasons we most want you here, — you can 
speak English and French, and you have no idea 
how hard it is for us sometimes with our book 
French to get along. When the men spoke in any 
dialect we were lost. However, that is better 
now, for we have only officers who are getting 
well. 

“We are too far away now, owing to the won- 
derful advance, to get any very serious cases. 
But I’ll explain all that to you when you come, for 
you must come, we are depending upon you. 

1 1 Write me when to expect you. I hope it will 
be very soon. 

“Very sincerely, 


“Janet Brooks.” 


TWO LETTERS 155 

“Will you go?” Pierre demanded, when Valerie 
stopped reading. 

“Of course I will,” she replied. “It is what 
I have been hoping for. It is not as near the front 
as I had hoped, but if they need me, why of course 
I will go.” 

She spoke with a determination that made argu- 
ing useless, and later when Madame Duval read 
Miss Brooks’ letter she did not attempt to dis- 
suade her. In her heart she was relieved to know 
that Valerie would not be in the way of any dan- 
ger, but she wisely refrained from mentioning her 
thoughts. 

“When will you go, my dear?” Monsieur Duval 
asked without hesitation, when he heard the news. 

“Just as soon as I can get ready,” Valerie re- 
plied, “which should be in a day or two.” 

And the old gentleman nodded contentedly. 

When a little later in the day Valerie and Pierre 
were alone together, Valerie said: “Are you go- 
ing to answer Lieutenant Fielding’s letter soon?” 

“Certainly I am, and I am going to send him 
tobacco, too,” Pierre replied. 


156 


VALERIE DUVAL 


They were leaning on the gate waiting for Lieu- 
tenant Carey and the men to come back. The sun 
was sinking behind the low hills to the west. Va- 
lerie watched it idly, and clicked one latch of the 
gate nervously. 

“Why do you ask?” Pierre demanded. “Do 
you want to send him a message? It would be 
only polite of you, I think, to do it.” 

“I don’t see why,” Valerie replied. “I have 
nothing to say. I only asked out of curiosity, and 
because I thought — ” 

“You thought what?” Pierre insisted. 

“Oh, that perhaps, as he said he wanted to re- 
main in France until he was well, that you might 
suggest he ask to be sent to Fleurette,” Valerie re- 
plied hurriedly. 

“Good idea!” Pierre exclaimed, “I’ll do that. 
If you were there, he would not be so lonely, per- 
haps. I’ll write the letter this very night,” he 
said with decision. “ I do hope he can go. ’ ’ 

“Look, isn’t that the soldiers away across on 
the other hill?” Valerie asked, pointing. “What 


TWO LETTERS 


157 


a long, long hike they have had. They will be 
hungry for dinner, poor dears !” she added, smil- 
ing. 


CHAPTER XVI 


AT FLEURETTE 


ALERIE stepped off the train at the tiny 



station at Fleurette, and looked about 


v her. As the most prominent thing in 
sight was a big gray automobile, she saw that first. 
A girl with her hair down her back in a long braid 
was just getting out of it. Valerie watched her 
and waited shyly. The girl came towards her. 

‘ ‘ Hello !” she exclaimed, “you’re Valerie Du- 
val, of course. I didn’t get here a minute too 
soon, did I f Let me take your bag. ’ ’ 

“Then you are Miss Brooks?” Valerie asked, 
smiling. “Oh, please don’t trouble about the bag. 
I can manage it.” 

“No, I am not Miss Brooks,” the girl replied. 
“I’m Helen Carey. Miss Brooks was so busy 
that she sent me.” 

“Helen Carey!” Valerie exclaimed. 


158 


AT FLEURETTE 


159 


“Oh, but that is the most exciting thing that I 
ever heard of. Only fancy, I left your big brother 
this morning !” she exclaimed in French. 

“Hold on, I can’t keep up with that,” Helen 
laughed. ‘ ‘ My French is very limited. ’ 9 

“Oh, how stupid, I am! In my excitement I 
forgot,” Valerie apologized. “I am so sorry. 
What I said was, that I was glad, and that I had 
just left your brother this morning.” 

“My brother! Tom?” Helen exclaimed. 
“Why, of course, the Duval farm, I never con- 
nected the two names. You see Miss Brooks only 
told me to-day that you were coming. She was 
too busy to say who you were or where you came 
from, and I just got here this morning myself.” 

“But I thought you were in an English hospital, 
not a French one,” Valerie said wonderingly. 

“I was until to-day,” Helen explained. “You 
see, some of our boys — Americans, I mean, may 
be sent to Fleurette for the time being and, well, 
I know it was like quitting, but I just couldn’t help 
it. I asked to be transferred here, the head of the 
English hospital is a darling and, of course, she 


160 VALERIE DUVAL 

let me come down. But for goodness ’ sake do tell 
me how Tom is, and let’s get into the car.” 

In their excitement they had stood still on the 
platform. 

“Do you drive it yourself?” Valerie asked, as 
Helen slipped into the driver’s seat; “but of 
course you do, I was forgetting.” 

“Forgetting what?” Helen inquired. 

* 4 The night you drove to meet the train back in 
America,” Valerie replied, smiling. 

“Now, who told you that?” Helen demanded. 

‘ ‘ Lieutenant Fielding. ’ ’ 

“Why, do you know ‘ Shoulders’? Oh, that’s 
right, he was billeted with Tom until he left to join 
the Engineers ; and you know Allen too ! isn’t that 
thrilling! Why, it’s a fairy tale,” Helen ex- 
claimed. 

“Allen is Captain Webb, yes?” Valerie asked. 
i 1 1 knew him too. He did not get wounded in the 
battle, did he? And have you heard how Lieuten- 
ant Fielding is?” 

The car was running smoothly along the dusty 


AT FLEURETTE 


161 


road, but Helen brought it to a sudden stop. 
“Is!” she asked, “what do you mean, — is 4 Shoul- 
ders’ wounded!” 

“Didn’t you know!” Valerie inquired. “Oh, I 
am sorry I frightened you. He wrote to my 
brother Pierre and told him. It was after the 
attack when the Americans joined in, you know. 
He was shot, once in the head and twice in the arm, 
but he said he would soon be well.” 

“Thank goodness for that!” Helen said feel- 
ingly. “You did scare me. I haven’t heard a 
word from Allen, even, for weeks, and 4 Shoulders ’ 
never does write. And as for Tom, well, I’ve had 
one letter from him and two post-cards since I 
landed in France.” 

“He is very busy,” Valerie explained. 4 4 He 
works all the time at something, but he talks about 
you a lot.” 

44 Well, that doesn’t help me,” Helen laughed, as 
she started the car again. 

They soon reached the gateway of the great 
Chateau that served now as a hospital, and drove 


162 


VALERIE DUVAL 


slowly up to the massive bronze door. Miss 
Brooks had heard the car coming, and was in the 
hall to receive them. 

Valerie looked at her big, brown eyes for a 
second, and then exclaimed, ‘ 4 Then you are 
her f” 

Helen and Miss Brooks laughed. 

‘ * Who ’s her ? ’ ’ Helen inquired. 

“Why, the picture in Monsieur Lathrop’s 
leather picture frame. He showed it to me, but 
he did not say you were in France, and he did not 
tell me your name.” 

Miss Brooks smiled delightedly. “I know, he 
told me he hadn’t, and he is so anxious to know if 
you recognized me. Now I shall have to write him 
that you did straight off.” 

“How is he?” Valerie asked, “and has he gone 
back to America? He was badly wounded, poor 
fellow.” 

“No, indeed,” Miss Brooks replied. “After 
the General gave him his Croix de Guerre they 
told him he was discharged from the service on 
account of his arm. But that didn’t make any 


AT FLEURETTE 


163 


difference to Billy. He just went over to Italy, 
and lie’s driving an ambulance there now.” 

“How exactly what he would do!” Valerie ex- 
claimed. 

She unbuttoned her dark blue coat and Helen 
caught sight of her decoration. 

“Hello, have you a Croix de Guerre too?” she 
asked. ‘ i How thrilling ! ’ ’ 

“Wait till you hear how she got it,” Miss 
Brooks said. “I haven’t had time to tell you. 
Miss Duval is a real heroine. She’s done any 
amount of brave things, and she saved my Billy’s 
life twice.” 

“Oh, that is nothing to Miss Carey,” said Val- 
erie. “She has saved lives, too. Now, please 
don’t talk about me,” she protested, as Helen 
started to speak. “I am so tired and dusty, may 
I go to my room?” 

‘ 4 Of course. Here ’s Marieken, she ’ll take you, ’ * 
Miss Brooks said, as a very thin little girl with 
big serious eyes and flaxen hair came into the 
hall. “Marieken, this is Mademoiselle Duval. 
Take her upstairs, will you? I’ll stay behind and 


164 


VALERIE DUVAL 


tell Helen all about you,” she added, as Valerie 
followed her guide up the stairs. 

Marieken led the way up two long flights of 
stairs to a small room in one of the turrets. Val- 
erie, as she followed, caught sight of long wards 
filled with rows of white cots. Everything looked 
so clean and comfortable that she could not help 
but contrast it with the discolored mattresses and 
the hard tables in the little estaminet at Riva. 

“When they are first wounded they should 
have all this,” she said to herself. 

Marieken nodded in understanding. “Yes, you 
are right,” she said. “But instead they must 
lie on straw in dark cellars — but that is war.” 

“Then you have seen too?” Valerie asked. 

“Oh, yes,” Marieken shrugged her shoulders, 
“I have seen enough to know.” 

Valerie noticed, for the first time, that the 
younger girl had a ribbon around her neck on 
which hung the Cross of St. Albert. 

“How did you get it?” she asked curiously. 

“For doing my duty, Mademoiselle,” Marieken 
replied. “No more than that — and your Croix?” 


AT FLEURETTE 


165 


“The same,” Valerie replied; “for doing my 
duty to France.” 

They looked at each other for a long moment in 
silence. Although there was more than two years 
difference between them the expression of their 
eyes was the same. 

“I am glad you have come,” Marieken said at 
last. 

“And I am glad you are here,” Valerie re- 
plied. “The Americans are wonderful, but — ” 

“They cannot understand yet,” Marieken fin- 
ished, with another expressive shrug of her shoul- 
ders. 

“Come now, let me help you unpack your bag, 
and then I will show you around. ’ ’ 

Valerie had turned to look out of the win- 
dow. 

“It is a lovely place, isn’t it? Are there many 
patients downstairs?” 

“Not just now, no. A lot left yesterday to 
return — some home, and others to their regiments. 
We are expecting more to-morrow or the next day. 
The Americans, I believe . 9 9 


166 


VALEBIE DUVAL 


Valerie felt her cheeks suddenly grow hot. 

“Have you ever seen any Americans ?” Marie- 
ken inquired, “soldiers, I mean.’’ 

“Oh, yes, plenty of them,” Valerie told her. 
“We had three officers billeted at our house, and 
a lot of privates in the barn.” 

“And did you like them!” Marieken persisted. 

“Yes, of course, they are so big and strong; you 
have no idea how big, why, when I first saw them 
I thought they must be giants,” Valerie explained. 
“They are good fighters, I can imagine, and so 
calm, never excited or crazy, and so much fun.” 

“What are you two talking about?” Miss 
Brooks stood in the doorway, smiling. “I hate to 
interrupt, but I know Mademoiselle Duval must 
be hungry. Will you see if her luncheon is ready, 
Marieken ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, indeed at once,” Marieken replied. “I 
myself will cook it, ’ ’ she promised as she ran down 
the stairs. 

“Mercy, you must have made a hit!” Helen 
exclaimed, as she joined Miss Brooks in the door- 
way. “Marieken is the best cook in seven states, 


AT FLEURETTE 167 

and if she makes you an omelet, you 11 think 
you’re in Paradise.’ ’ 

They returned downstairs, and Miss Brooks 
led the way into her office. 

“I suppose you want to begin work to-mor- 
row ?” she asked, smiling. 

“Why not to-day?” Valerie replied. “I’m not 
a bit tired.” 

1 1 Good for you ! ’ ’ said Helen , 1 1 that ’s the proper 
spirit. But really there isn’t much to do until 
the new men arrive.” 

“How about all those beds that have to be 
made?” Miss Brooks asked. 

“Oh, I love to make beds, let’s go do it now,” 
Valerie exclaimed. 

“Not before you have something to eat,” Helen 
said. ‘ 4 Here comes Marieken now, and yes, she ’a 
made you an omelet.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


NEWS OF CAPTAIN WEBB 

T HAT night Valerie met all the other nurses 
who had been on duty when she arrived, 
and was shown her new duties. They 
consisted chiefly in making beds and keeping an 
eye on a ward full of men, who were just at the 
stage of recovery when they needed all kinds of 
attention. Most of the men were French officers, 
and they were so delighted to find some one who 
could understand them, that it was not many min- 
utes after Valerie had been put in charge before 
they began to imagine every possible want. They 
hid their cigarette cases and their magazines for 
an excuse to call her, and then grumbled like chil- 
dren when she could not sit by their beds and chat. 

‘ ‘But I am busy,” she protested, as a little 
French Captain begged her to read to him the 
morning after her arrival. 4 ‘More men may ar- 
168 


NEWS OF CAPTAIN WEBB 169 

rive any time, and a nice fix we’d be in if their 
beds were not made.” 

“You have been making beds all morning,” the 
Captain objected. “You must have made a thou- 
sand, now you should rest. If you don’t do as I 
ask, I will tell the kind Mademoiselle Brooks. ’ 9 

“Tell her then,” Valerie replied, laughing. 
* ‘ She will give you a great old scolding, see if she 
doesn’t.” 

“What about Miss Brooks?” a voice asked from 
the doorway. 

Valerie jumped up. * ‘ Monsieur le Capitaine in- 
sists that I read to him,” she said. “Tell him 
I’m busy.” 

Miss Brooks took her part. “Of course you’re 
busy. Captain you must read to yourself.” 
“Mademoiselle Duval,” she turned to Valerie, 
“do you know how to milk a cow?” 

“Yes, certainly,” Valerie replied. “Why?” 

“Well, will you milk two of ours for us. Marie- 
ken’s cousin, who was here until the other day, 
used to do it for us, but she left to work in the 
munition plant, and Miss Carey said she’d do it 


170 


VALERIE DUVAL 


but she has had such distressing news. Captain 
Webb is wounded and missing, she just received 
word, and of course she’s upset.” 

“Oh, I am so sorry! Tell her not to worry,” 
Valerie exclaimed. “I will milk the cows gladly. 
Where are they?” 

“Come and I’ll show you.” 

Miss Brooks turned and led the way to the barn. 
“We are so short of men that we have to do all 
the heavy work. When we had just plain soldiers 
they used to do lots of things for us, but of course 
one can’t expect an officer to pitch hay or milk 
cows. I’d ask Marieken, only she has her hands 
full in the kitchen.” 

“But why can’t I do it?” Valerie said. “I’m 
glad to have some real work. Up there it is just 
play.” 

“Wait till the new men arrive and you won’t 
think so. You’ve come to us at a slack time, for- 
tunately,” Miss Brooks replied. “But don’t 
worry — I can promise you work, hard work in a 
day or two.” 


NEWS OF CAPTAIN WEBB 


171 


The barn where the cows were kept was off a 
little distance from the Chateau. It was a pic- 
turesque building and had once been the stable, 
but a more recent owner of the Chateau had built 
a new garage, and the old one had been converted 
into a cow barn. There were four stalls on the 
main floor, and above them a loft for hay. At 
one corner, built on for no particular reason, was 
a tall turret. A steep ladder led to the top, which 
consisted of a tiny room with a window. On the 
outside the tower was covered with a very old 
trumpet vine, which added greatly to the pictur- 
esqueness of the building. 

“What a funny old place,” Valerie said de- 
lightedly. “I wouldn’t wonder if it were older 
than the Chateau.” 

“It is queer, isn’t it? What do you suppose 
they stuck that turret on for?” Miss Brooks asked. 

“It was probably a windmill,” Valerie ex- 
plained; “and they couldn’t bear to tear it down.” 

A little boy met them at the door. He was grin- 
ning sheepishly, and he held one hand behind him. 


172 


VALERIE DUVAL 


Valerie sniffed the air, but she did not say any- 
thing until Miss Brooks had left her with the part- 
ing instructions that she was to let Maurice help 
her carry the pails back to the house. Then she 
looked at the small grinning face before her and 
said with an attempt at great seriousness. 

“ Maurice, are you alone in this stable ?” 

“Yes, Mam’selle,” the youngster replied. 

“Then you’ve been trying to smoke/ ’ Valerie 
announced sternly. “Now don’t deny it, I can 
smell the tobacco.” 

Maurice started to protest, looked at Valerie, 
and decided that honesty was the best policy. 

“Only one little one, Mam’selle,” he said coax- 
ingly. “Please do not tell my mother or mara- 
’selle Carey, for they will be cross.” 

“Where did you get the cigarette?” Valerie 
demanded, trying hard not to laugh, “and how 
long, if you please, have you been smoking?” 

The boy saw the twinkle in her eye and grinned. 

“Not for long, only to-day. You see the brave 
Captain LaTour was out on the lawn yesterday 
and he dropped a cigarette. It was very nearly a 


NEWS OF CAPTAIN WEBB 


173 


new one, Mam’selle, he had only puffed twice, and 
then some nurse, the fat one that does not like 
smoke, came and the Captain threw it away. I 
found it and, this morning, as Mam’selle discov- 
ered I was trying to smoke it.” 

He had quite regained his cheerfulness by now. 
It was not possible to believe that any one with 
laughing eyes and short curly hair like his could 
ever be very angry. 

“You’re a young imp,” Valerie said sternly, 
“and you must never, never do it again, do you 
understand? Boys don’t smoke until they are 
much, much bigger than you are. If I catch you 
at it again, I’ll spank you. I mean it — hard, 
too.” 

Maurice laughed. His expression was not 
promising, for he looked all of the contempt he 
felt for the threat of a mere girl. 

Valerie set to work milking the cows. It was 
not hard for her, for although the Duvals were 
well off, she had always done her share of the 
work, especially since the beginning of the war. 
She had almost finished when Helen came into the 


174 


VALEKIE DUVAL 


barn. Her eyes were red, but her mouth was set 
in strong determination. 

4 4 Here, let me finish,” she said, 4 4 I’m all right 
and this is my work. I told Miss Brooks I’d do 
it; she should not have troubled you.” 

4 4 It is not a trouble,” protested Valerie. 44 I 
like it much better, in fact, than making beds. 
Please let me finish. ’ ’ 

44 No,” Helen refused, 44 if I don’t work I will 
go crazy.” 

Valerie gave her her place at once. 

4 4 Perhaps it is better,” she said. 44 I am so 
sorry about Captain Webb. How did you hear?” 

4 4 The message came to the English hospital, 
and the doctor sent it here at once. The hospital 
is only a short distance from here, you know,” 
Helen explained. 

4 4 But what did it say ? Just wounded and miss- 
ing?” Valerie asked gently. 

4 4 That’s all,” Helen replied, 4 4 just wounded and 
missing. But come, don’t let’s talk about it. I 
have my work to do, and that is more important 
than my troubles. I’m only realizing what your 


NEWS OF CAPTAIN WEBB 175 

country-women have been suffering for the last 
few years.’ ’ 

“You are splendid and brave,” Valerie said, 
putting her arm on her shoulder. 

“I’m an American!” Helen replied, “and I’ve 
got to keep a stiff upper lip.” 

“Perhaps he may be found,” Valerie suggested. 

“No, no, don’t let me get my hopes up,” Helen 
pleaded. “I couldn’t stand it. I’ve worked it all 
out, and now I can go on, but I don’t dare hope.” 

Valerie nodded in understanding, but she hoped 
none the less. She could not forget the sure way 
in which Lieutenant Fielding had written to Pierre 
of Captain Webb’s safety, but she did not tell 
Helen of it for fear of raising her hopes unnec- 
essarily. Instead she said: “Don’t think about 
it at all. You must let me help you now with this 
milk. I’ll take it to the kitchen. Come along, 
Imp,” this to Maurice, who was lying contentedly 
in the hay, “help me carry this pail.” 

“Will you give me a mug full when we get to the 
kitchen?” Maurice asked as they steadied the pail 
between them. 


176 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“If you promise never to smoke again,” Val- 
erie said. 

Maurice sighed, but whether in sympathy for 
himself or disgust at her suggestion Valerie did 
not know. 

“I won’t promise, Mam’selle,” he said decid- 
edly. 

“All right then, no milk.” Valerie was equally 
decided. 

They reached the door to the kitchen in silence, 
and Marieken met them. “Here give me a pail, 
quick. It is time to take up the egg nogs, and 
those big children upstairs will be crying if they 
don’t get them in a hurry.” 

“Can I help?” Valerie offered, “I can beat up 
the eggs.” 

“No, I will do that. You come over here,” 
Marieken directed. “There are the glasses and 
here is the tray. In that box are a few crackers. 
Give them just one apiece, and if the little Captain 
grumbles and he will, of course, he is always hun- 
gry, that man, tell him he will have no broth this 
afternoon.” 


NEWS OF CAPTAIN WEBB 


177 


Valerie watched Marieken fly around the big 
kitchen like an excited butterfly, and wondered how 
any one so very small could hold so much energy. 
She busied herself with the glasses, and they were 
no more than in place on the tray, when Marie- 
ken came over with a foaming pitcher of egg 
nogg. 

‘ ‘ Shall I carry them up?” Valerie offered. 

“No, indeed, they go by elevator; look,” Marie- 
ken laughed, as she opened a door in the wall and 
lifted the tray on to the dumb waiter. Before she 
sent it up to the floor above, she took off one of the 
glasses. 

“Did I put on too many?” Valerie asked. 

“No, but I made one extra for Mam’selle Carey. 
I will take it out to her. She is very unhappy, and 
no wonder; such sad news.” 

“I can’t tell her in English how I feel, and she 
cannot understand my French, so this will have to 
show her for me.” She picked up the glass and 
hurried out towards the barn. 

Valerie turned to go upstairs, but before she 
reached the door, she heard an impish chuckle from 


178 VALERIE DUVAL 

one corner of the kitchen. Maurice was sitting, 
Turk fashion, on the floor and contentedly sipping 
a large bowl of milk. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


WAITING FOR THE AMBULANCES 

4 ELL, our boys arrive this after- 

% / %/ noon,” Miss Brooks announced at 
" " breakfast the next morning. “I 

received word late last night. Thirty new pa- 
tients, just think, we will have some Americans 
all to ourselves. I hope at sight of them, I won’t 
lose my head and insist on kissing them. I’ll want 
to, goodness knows!” 

“Are they all Americans!” Valerie asked eag- 
erly. It did seem that out of so many at least 
one might be Lieutenant Fielding. 

“No indeed. There are a lot of your country- 
men coming, too,” Miss Brooks replied. “But 
they are coming from another clearing station.” 

“How do they bring the men down here!” Val- 
erie inquired. “Not all the way in an ambulance, 
that would kill them. ’ 9 She spoke feelingly. Her 

179 


180 


VALERIE DUVAL 


experience in an ambulance was anything but a 
restful memory. 

“They bring them down in a train,” Miss 
Brooks explained; “hospital trains from the clear- 
ing station to our Junction, that’s twenty miles 
from here, and from there by ambulances. The 
roads are nice and level along here, you 
know.” 

“Have you any idea who are coming?” one of 
the nurses asked. “Of course, they didn’t send 
any names.” 

“No, but of course, they’re all men from the 
Engineers, for they are the only Americans who 
have been wounded so far. ’ ’ 

“What time did you say they were coming?” 
Helen asked listlessly. 

“Sometime this afternoon. There’s no telling 
when — the trains are so late.” 

Helen nodded and left the table abruptly, and 
after a few minutes Valerie followed her. She 
found her pitching hay from the loft of the cow 
barn. Valerie did not speak to her, for she knew 
she wanted to be alone. She returned to the 


WAITING FOR THE AMBULANCES 181 

Chateau, and went up to the ward to relieve the 
nurse on duty. There was very little to do, for 
everything was in perfect order. 

One of the doctors on the hospital staff came in 
to make his rounds. Valerie stood respectfully at 
the foot of each bed as he read the charts. He 
was a gruff old Frenchman, and the men all dis- 
liked him. Marieken was the only one of all the 
girls and women that made up the staff of the 
hospital, to whom he ever bothered to speak. 

He passed down the ward, and growled out a 
direction here and there, and before he left he 
said abruptly: “Get them all out of doors into 
the sun. It’s as warm as summer to-day.” 

Valerie nodded respectfully. “Very well, sir,” 
she said. 

As soon as his head was turned the men all 
laughed. 

“Old sober sides !” the little Captain exclaimed, 
making a wry face. “He always sends my tem- 
perature up to look at him. I much prefer the 
young American doctor.” 

“That’s because he lets you smoke all day,” 


182 VALERIE DUVAL 

Valerie said severely, and the rest of the men 

laughed. 

She hurried to tell Miss Brooks the doctor’s 
orders, and the morning was filled up by putting 
out the chairs on the lawn and settling the men 
in them. 

Valerie was a little bit tired and very hot by 
the time luncheon was being carried to them, and 
she slipped olf down the road under the big shade 
trees. She had wandered as far as the gate when 
she heard the sound of an automobile. 

“An ambulance,” was the first thought that en- 
tered her mind, and she ran excitedly to the gate. 

She was disappointed to find only a big green 
car coming in sight down the road. She waited 
and watched it. It was a military car, and it was 
going very fast. As it reached the gate, it stopped 
and an officer jumped down from his place be- 
side the driver. 

“This is Fleur ette, isn’t it?” he asked Valerie. 

“Yes, Monsieur,” she answered. 

“Well is there a Miss Helen Carey here? I 
have a message for her.” 


t 


WAITING FOR THE AMBULANCES 183 


“Oh, yes, sir,” Valerie exclaimed, “shall I take 
it to her?” 

“Yes, if you will. Tell her that Dr. Jepson 
sent it to her by me, will you? ’ ’ 

“Yes, certainly,” Valerie’s eyes were shining 
with excitement. “Is it about Captain Webb?” 
she asked as she took the envelope. 

“Can’t say,” the Englishman replied, “I was 
passing this way and the doctor asked me to leave 
it. If you’ll take it to her it will save time, and 
I’m in no end of a hurry,” he said as he went 
back to his car. “It’s good news, I think,” he 
called back over his shoulder. 

“Oh, then it is about Captain Webb!” Valerie 
exclaimed joyfully, and started running as fast as 
she could. 

She found Helen in the cow shed. She was busy 
washing out the milk pails ; Maurice was helping 
her. She looked up at sight of Valerie dashing 
towards her. 

“Are they coming?” she called. 

“No, no, it’s news for you — good news,” Val- 
erie shouted back breathless from her run. 


184 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“Here,” she flourished the envelope, “it came 
from Dr. Jepson, an Englishman brought it.” 

Helen seized it, tore it open with trembling fin- 
gers, and read : 

“Captain Webb slightly wounded, leaves for 
base hospital to-day.” 

“Oh, what does it mean?” she exclaimed. 
“Is this one true or was it sent before the 
other.” 

“Of course it’s true,” Valerie insisted. “The 
other was a mistake. If he was found once and 
in a hospital, he wouldn’t get lost again.” 

Helen stared ahead of her. A thousand fears 
Crushed into her mind, and she tried not to put 
'too much faith in the words before her, but her 
heart was beating excitedly. Valerie had no 
doubts at all. She threw her arms around Helen 
and kissed her on both cheeks. 

“He is coming here, I know it!” she exclaimed. 
“Here this very day. Stop torturing your mind 
with doubts, it’s all as plain as black and white,” 
she insisted. 

‘ * Allen, here ! Oh, that ’s too good to be true ! ’ ’ 


WAITING FOR THE AMBULANCES 185 


Helen exclaimed, trembling. ‘ ‘ Why, I believe I ’m 
going to cry. How silly of me ! ’ ’ 

“It is not silly,’ ’ Valerie denied hotly. “You 
are human — cry hard, it will do you good,” she 
said with so much emphasis that Helen laughed 
instead. 

“I think you understand,” she said; “but don’t 
tell, will you? I think tears are silly, but I can’t 
somehow help myself just now.” 

“Oh, there is the luncheon gong!” Valerie ex- 
claimed, as a bell sounded from the house. “I 
have been away too long, I ought to be ashamed. 
Come now, dry your eyes and try to eat some- 
thing.” 

Helen did as she was told with some success, 
considering her state of excitement. 

All the nurses and the doctors were delighted 
at her good news. An engaged girl is an inter- 
esting subject at any time, but in the midst of war, 
with its dangers and suspense she is more so than 
ever. Each of the nurses treated her with so 
much sympathy and consideration, as one set aside 
by fate for special notice, that she became very 


186 VALERIE DUVAL 

much embarrassed and fled out-of-doors with 
Valerie to escape it. 

“They’re darlings, of course, but I wish they 
wouldn't,” she said ruefully. 

“I know it makes your cheeks burn, doesn’t it?” 
Valerie sympathized. 4 4 Let’s stay out here. 
There is plenty to do in the stable, and we must 
put a long table somewhere, so that the drivers 
from the ambulances can be fed when they ar- 
rive.” 

They worked steadily for a couple of hours or 
more, and then Helen began listening for the 
ambulances. She would run down the driveway 
at every sound, only to return to say that the car 
had passed by the gate. 

At last, however, they did come. They heard 
them from a long distance, and caught sight of 
them away down the road, a train of ten machines. 
Every one in the Chateau was waiting in the court- 
yard for them when they stopped. 

“ Americans?” Helen asked, as the first driver 
and aid jumped out. 


WAITING FOR THE AMBULANCES 187 

‘‘No, nothing but French/ ’ he replied, “the 
train from the north isn ’t in yet. ’ ’ 

“Oh!” Helen’s face fell, but she was soon as 
busy as the rest making their new patients com- 
fortable. They were officers from French regi- 
ments that had been under heavy tire, and some 
of them had been very badly wounded. Their 
courage and pluck, and their pathetic gratitude for 
the smallest thing that was done for them, made 
the nurses ashamed of their momentary dis- 
appointment, and they redoubled their attentions. 

It was not long before all the men were in bed 
with lighted cigarettes between their lips. The 
old patients, who were well enough to be up and 
around, came into the ward, and news of the front 
and of comrades was soon bandied back and forth 
from bed to bed. 

Valerie and Helen, as soon as they had done all 
that they could — and Valerie had been of the 
greatest help as an interpreter — returned to the 
road to await the next train of ambulances. 

“If they don’t come pretty soon I shall give 


188 VALEEIE DUVAL 

up,” Helen said. i ‘ This waiting is terrible.” 

“Well, they will be here soon, if they are com- 
ing at all,” Valerie replied, “for it is almost time 
for the sun to set.” 

They walked towards the stable. The ambu- 
lances that had brought the French men were 
about to return. Their drivers, some of them 
girls, had eaten a hurried meal and seemed eager 
to start. 

“We can make it before dark if we hustle a bit,” 
Helen heard one of them say. 

“Do you think the Americans will get here by 
to-night?” Helen asked her. 

The girl turned. “Not a doubt of it,” she said. 
“If we pass them on the road we’ll tell them to 
hurry up.” 

“Thanks, I wish you would,” Helen said smil- 
ing, and turned to Valerie. “I’m going up and 
find something to do,” she said. “If you hear 
them, let me know, will you ? ’ ’ 

Valerie agreed, and when Helen had gone she 
strolled off towards the cow barn. 

“If I could get up to the top of that tower, I 


WAITING FOR THE AMBULANCES 189 


could see a long way off,” she thought. “I guess 
Pll try it.” 

The door was open into the barn, and she went 
in and looked at the long ladder that led up to the 
tower. It was steep, but Valerie did not hesitate 
to start up it. She was so occupied with the idea, 
that in carrying it out she did not notice that 
Maurice was hiding under the hay by one of the 
cows, nor did she even notice the telltale smell 
of tobacco in the air. 

She climbed slowly at first, testing the strength 
of each rung before she put her foot on it, but by 
the time she was half-way up she decided that it 
was safe, and hurried the rest of the way. 

The little room at the top was no more than a 
Very broad shelf, but it was quite wide enough to 
sit on. Valerie, after an effort, managed to push 
open the window. There was a splendid view of 
the countryside, as she expected. She scanned the 
road below eagerly, and to her joy saw a train of 
ambulances not very far away. She watched them 
come nearer and nearer, and at last she could hear 
the rumble of the cars. 


190 


VALERIE DUVAL 


Helen came out of the Chateau, and Valerie 
called to her : 4 4 Here they come, I can see them ! 9 9 

Helen looked up in surprise. 4 4 Where are 
you?” she called. 

4 4 Here in the tower. I have a fine view. Lis- 
ten, do you hear them? They are nearly at the 
gate . 9 9 

But Helen was not listening — she was gazing 
horror-striken at the barn before her. Valerie 
leaned out of the window and looked down. As 
she did so, Maurice’s piping voice came to her. 

4 4 Fire! Fire! Oh, help, the hay is on fire!” 
he screamed shrilly. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE RESCUE 

V ALERIE started down the ladder, but was 
forced by a cloud of smoke that filled the 
tower to return to the window. 

Miss Brooks and several of the nurses had heard 
Maurice ’s cry, and came hurrying out to see what 
the matter was. Helen was busy trying to attach 
the garden hose to the pipe beside the stable. 
She succeeded only to find that it was too short. 

Meanwhile the ambulances began to arrive. 
The first one pulled up in the courtyard, and the 
driver jumped to the ground and hurried over to 
Miss Brooks, who was wringing her hands. With- 
out waiting to hear what the trouble was, he 
plunged into the smoke and flames and returned 
with two cows, both very frightened and badly 
burned. 

Another ambulance arrived, as Miss Brooks and 

191 


192 


VALERIE DUVAL 


Helen were explaining frantically about Valerie. 
The driver of that one joined the group. The 
flames were climbing higher every minute. The 
men looked up at the window so far beyond their 
reached and remained helpless. 

There were shouts of “A ladder! Somebody 
get a ladder !” 

“There’s one in the stable.’ ’ 

“Here!” 

“Quick!” 

But no one seemed to do anything. 

Valerie looked down the tower again. The 
ladder had caught, and the flames were lapping at 
the dry wooden rungs. The smoke was over- 
powering. She went back to the window and 
leaned far out to try to escape it. As she looked 
down in the courtyard, she saw the back of the 
second ambulance open, and a man jump out. 
He was very big, and his head and one arm were 
swathed in bandages. 

Valerie saw Helen run to him, and point up at 
the window. He looked up. It was Lieutenant 
Fielding, without a doubt. She watched terrified, 


THE RESCUE 193 

for lie brushed Helen aside and ran over to the 
tower. 

“ Don’t! Don’t !” she shouted, as he caught 
hold of the big trunk of the trumpet vine and 
began to climb up. 

She shut her eyes, for the smoke was stinging 
them, and her head reeled dizzily. There was a 
tense silence in the courtyard, and the only sound 
was the crackle of the flames as they crept up the 
ladder below. 

Valerie tried once to open her eyes, but she was 
nearly overcome by the smoke. She did manage 
to see that the white of the bandages was coming 
nearer and nearer, then she fainted. 

Lieutenant Fielding climbed higher and higher, 
the old trumpet vine held firmly, and at last he 
reached the window. 

He had only one arm, and he could not let go 
of the vine long enough to get Valerie on his back. 
She was powerless to help him. His only chance 
was to rouse her. 

“Valerie!” he called, “come to, child, you’re 
all right. I’m here, please open your eyes.” 


194 


VALERIE DUVAL 


Valerie was dimly conscious of his voice and 
tried to struggle back to consciousness. She 
opened her eyes and tried to speak. ‘ 1 Shoulders ’ ’ 
saw it. 

4 ‘ That’s right, honey, come to, like a good girl, 
and try to catch hold of my neck. IVe only this 
one arm,” he added beseechingly, for the smoke 
was growing denser every minute. 

Valerie roused herself with an effort, and did 
what he told her. She clung tightly to his neck 
and crawled out of the window. 

“On my back; there,” “Shoulders” directed. 
“Don’t be frightened — we’ll be down soon.” 

He began the descent slowly, for her weight 
added to his weakened condition and made it a 
hard task. As they neared the ground a dozen 
hands were held up to help them, and a cheer of 
relief, as well as admiration, rose from the men 
who were watching. And not a moment too soon, 
for as they reached ground the whole tower burst 
into flames. 

Helen and Miss Brooks received Valerie and 
carried her into the Chateau, while the doctor took 


THE RESCUE 195 

care of i 6 Shoulders, ’ ’ who was very nearly un- 
conscious himself from the exertion. 

Valerie was not seriously affected by the smoke, 
and under Miss Brooks’ care she soon regained 
consciousness. 

4 ‘Is he safe?” was her first question. 

“Yes, dear, he is. The doctors are taking care 
of him, don’t worry,” Miss Brooks replied. 

“Oh, what a scare!” Helen said excitedly. 
“Whatever made you go up into the tower! I 
thought those men would never do anything. You 
would had been burned to death, if it hadn’t been 
for ‘Shoulders.’ ” 

“Don’t excite her, my dear,” Miss Brooks pro- 
tested, ‘ ‘ she ought to be quiet. ’ ’ 

But Valerie was thinking of too many things to 
make rest possible. 

“Did he come!” she demanded, looking at 
Helen. Then without giving her time to answer, 
she said accusingly, “You don’t know. Go down- 
stairs this minute and find out.” 

Helen rose. “All right, I will,” she said, “and 
I’ll come back and tell you.” 


196 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“Good!” Valerie turned to Miss Brooks, “and 
you, please, go and see how Lieutenant Fielding 
is,” she begged, “I can’t be quiet until I know.” 

Miss Brooks nodded. “Very well, but you 
mustn’t fret while I’m gone. Do lie still.” 

Valerie was tossing about nervously. “I will, 
I will, if you’ll only hurry,” she promised. 

Helen and Miss Brooks had hardly left the 
room, when there was a slight knock on the door. 

“Come in,” Valerie called, and Marieken en- 
tered softly. 

“The doctor says you are to drink this, and 
when he has time he will come to see you. The 
big man that rescued you is very ill. ’ ’ 

“How do you know?” Valerie demanded. 

“Because I saw him. The wound in his head 
is all open again, and his eyes look as if he were 
in agony,” Marieken explained. Then quite as an 
afterthought she added, “I think he is the biggest 
and, yes, the bravest man I ever saw.” 

“Oh, he is, he is!” Valerie cried. “And now 
maybe just on my account he is going to die.” 


THE RESCUE 


197 


4 ‘He is not. I heard the doctor say he was too 
strong to kill. Here now stop being so silly and 
drink this, it will make you better, and then you 
may get up. All the men are here and there is 
much to do.” 

Without a word of protest Valerie swallowed 
the medicine. The little Belgian’s rebuke acted 
as a tonic to her overstrung nerves, and helped 
her back to self-control as no amount of petting 
could have done. 

“Now go to sleep,” Marieken said sternly, go- 
ing out and closing the door behind her. 

And Valerie went to sleep and slept for three 
hours. Miss Brooks and Helen tiptoed into her 
room several times, and at last the doctor came. 
He made so much noise coming up the stairs, that 
Valerie woke up. It was the gruff Frenchman 
and he had very little to say. He left Valerie 
with the determination to recover at once, rather 
than have him come back again to see her. 

At last Helen opened the door. 

“Are you awake I” she whispered. 


198 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“Oh, yes, do come in quickly and tell me,” Va- 
lerie exclaimed. “But, of course, I can see by 
your face that Captain Webb is here.” 

“Yes, and he’s not very badly wounded, but he 
was missing for two whole days — think of it — 
before the stretcher-bearers found him. Of 
course, he’s awfully weak, but he’ll be well soon 
— too soon, I suppose.” 

“And Lieutenant Fielding?” Valerie asked. 

“Oh, don’t worry about ‘ Shoulders,’ ” Helen 
laughed. “He’s all right. Of course, climbing 
a wall and rescuing pretty little French girls when 
you’ve only one arm is hard work, but he’ll get 
well in no time.” 

Valerie rolled over so that she faced the wall. 

“You may joke if you like,” she said crossly, 
“but I don’t think it’s a joking matter.” 

“Why, you funny little thing, you!” Helen 
soothed. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. 
There, cuddle up and go to sleep, so that you’ll be 
all well to-morrow and can go down and see 
‘Shoulders.’ He’s been asking about you all 
evening,” she said as she turned out the light. 


THE RESCUE 


199 


Valerie did not reply, and Helen left her won- 
dering a little, but she was very far from even 
guessing at the meaning of her silence. 


CHAPTER XX 


A THANKSGIVING IN FRANCE 

BIG fire blazed in the fireplace of the 



drawing-room of the Chateau, and as 


many men as there was space for gath- 
ered before it and smoked contentedly. A month 
had passed since Valerie’s narrow escape, and it 
had been a month of crowded busy days. 

Lieutenant Fielding had been sick for a long 
time, and there had been nights when the doctors 
and nurses had looked grave and worried as they 
left his bedside. 

Valerie, wide-eyed and frightened, had waited 
outside the door hour on hour to hear news of his 
condition, and each day seemed to make her grow 
perceptibly older. But the American doctor had 
been right, ‘ i Shoulders ’ 9 was too strong to die, and 
at the end of two weeks he began to show signs of 


200 


A THANKSGIVING IN FBANCE 201 

improvement, and to demand food. The nurses 
smiled when they left him, and the doctors shook 
their heads and chuckled. 

When he was moved back to his place in the 
ward, he received a loud and hearty welcome. 
The French officers came to see him, and tried to 
talk, gave it up, and went back to their ward. 

The phonograph was kept going all day, until 
the few old records were almost used up, then 
there had arrived a box from London for Helen 
Carey, and in it were no less than thirty brand- 
new records, of all the popular songs and marches. 
Alice Blythe had sent them over as a contribution 
of cheer to Fleurette. The men who could not 
squeeze in before the fire were busy at the other 
end of the long room trying the new records. 
There was a holiday atmosphere about the whole 
Chateau, and the French officers were as delighted 
as children. 

“Tell me,” one of them said to Captain Webb, 
“what day do you call this?” 

i ‘ Thanksgiving, ’ 9 the Captain explained. “ It ’s 
an American holiday pure and simple. Our fore- 


202 VALEEIE DUVAL 

fathers started it as a sort of day of thanks for 
good crops.’ ’ 

“It is a beautiful idea,” the Frenchman replied, 
“to set apart one day on which to eat turkey and 
numberless other delicious foods.” 

“Turkey!” “Shoulders” demanded. “Who 
said so?” 

“I did, Monsieur,” the Frenchman replied. 
“Did you not smell a delicious smell as you came 
down the stairs?” 

“Sure, but food, any kind, or I should say most 
kinds of food are a delicious smell to me,” “Shoul- 
ders” replied. 

“Ah, that is where you are wrong. Some food 
is good, but it is seldom that it is truly delicious,” 
the Frenchman corrected him. 

“You don’t say. Well, how did you come to 
discover that that particular delicious smell was 
turkey?” “Shoulders” demanded. 

“I warn you,” Captain Webb laughed, “if 
you’re not sure that there is turkey, you’d better 
not say anything, because 4 Shoulders’ is apt to be 
real put out if you’re wrong. 


A THANKSGIVING IN FRANCE 203 


‘ ‘ But, of course, I know for a surety that it is 
turkey. Listen, I tell you how. I came down the 
stairs — you see — about the fifth step I sniff, and 
I say ‘ha, ha’ that is the first delicious smell I 
have sniffed since I leave Paris. I go down 
the stairs, but when I come to the door of the 
kitchen I stop. The smell is — how you say — 
worse ! ’ ’ 

“No, stronger,” several voices corrected. 

“Very well, more stronger, so I push open the 
door a crack, and then I see down the steps 
straight to the big stove, and at the stove is the 
little Marieken dancing.” 

“Dancing?” his listeners demanded. 

“Yes, jumping about so excited, while two big 
women hold a big, oh, a very big pan between them, 
and on it is a turkey of great proportion, and the 
little Marieken stab him with a fork and squeal 
with delight.” 

The Americans all sat back in their chairs, and 
sighed with profound and blissful content, and 
those of the French who had understood laughed 
in appreciation. 


204 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“Say, Captain Hilaire,’ ’ “Shoulders” turned 
to the narrator, “I reckon if you’ve made a mis- 
take, you’d better start for Germany right now.” 

1 ‘ Oh, you are so droll, ’ ’ Captain Hilaire replied, 
laughing, “to care so much for a turkey.” 

“I can see Helen’s hand in this,” Captain Webb 
said mysteriously. 

“Oh, you can see Missy’s hand in everything,” 
“Shoulders” replied, “but maybe this time you’re 
right.” 

“I don’t care whose hand it was,” another 
American laughed, “if it’s a real turkey. Hello, 
here’s little Miss Duval,” he added as Valerie, 
looking very pretty in a simple white serge dress, 
hesitated in the doorway. 

“Come in, Mademoiselle,” Captain Hilaire 
called. 

“What is the matter, have you broken the 
phonograph?” Valerie asked, smiling, “I haven’t 
heard it for ten minutes.” 

“No, but we had a weightier subject to dis- 
cuss,” Captain Webb told her, “you can settle it 


A THANKSGIVING IN FRANCE 205 

for us. Captain Hilaire here thinks he saw Ma- 
rieken dancing around a turkey, and we’re in- 
clined to think he ’s dreaming. ’ ’ 

“Am I not right, Mademoiselle?” Captain Hi- 
laire asked. 

“Oh, but you have given away a great secret,” 
Valerie replied in French. In English, she said: 
‘ ‘ He must have been dreaming, indeed Captain. I 
have seen no turkeys flying about Fleurette. I 
think we are going to have mutton stew for din- 
ner,” she teased. “Perhaps he confused the 
two,” she turned and left the room hurriedly. 

“Shoulders” was after her in an instant. 

“I’ll make sure about this while I’m at it,” he 
drawled as he followed her. 

Valerie ran as fast as she could down the hall 
and into Miss Brooks’ office, through a long 
French window, and out on to a tiny balcony. 

She tried to hide against the wall, but a tell- 
tale bit of her skirt blew into sight of the window, 
and “Shoulders” was soon beside her. 

“Hello, butterfly!” he said, grinning broadly. 


206 


VALERIE DUVAL 


“I knew I’d catch you, if I just waited for my 
chance, and now that I’ve got you, you’re going 
to listen to me — understand — even if the turkey 
gets cold in the meantime.” 

“Oh, it is an hour before dinner,” Valerie 
teased, “and we will get cold out here in this 
wind long before then. What must I listen 
to?” 

“Well,” “Shoulders” shifted from one foot to 
the other, ‘ ‘ suppose we begin with question num- 
ber one. How old are you f ” 

“Why, I will be seventeen in a little while,” 
Valerie answered evasively. 

“Then you’re sixteen now. That’s awfully 
young,” “Shoulders” looked genuinely troubled, 
“but it can’t be helped, I can’t wait until you 
really grow up.” 

“Wait, what for?” Valerie demanded. 

“Shoulders” stirred uneasily, and looked out 
over the smooth lawn. 

“Let’s take a walk,” he suggested, “I can al- 
ways talk better when I walk, and it’s not cold a 
bit.” 


A THANKSGIVING IN FRANCE 207 


“But you have no hat,” Valerie protested, “and 
you know Miss Brooks would be angry.” 

“Not to-day,” “Shoulders” replied, “she’d 
never be angry on Thanksgiving, she’s much too 
nice. Anyway I figure that if we’re careful we 
can keep out of sight.” 

He swung himself to the ground and lifted Va- 
lerie down very gently. They walked quickly 
around towards the back of the house. The cow 
barn was now a picturesque ruin. Only a part 
of the tower was left, and it stood out clearly 
against the bank of white clouds in the November 
sky. 

“Shoulders” did not speak until they were 
standing in its shadows, and out of sight of the 
hospital. 

“Now I guess we’re about ready for question 
number two,” he said. 

“Which is?” Valerie looked up at him inquir- 
ingly. 

“Which is, are you, or were you, very fond of 
that ambulance driver?” 

“Monsieur Lathrop? Why, of course I was. 


208 VALERIE DUVAL 

He is a dear,” Valerie replied enthusiastically, 
“he is the kindest man I — ” 

“Yes, I know,” “Shoulders” interrupted, “but 
apart from that are you — well, you know, in love 
with him?” 

“Certainly not. What a stupid question,” Va- 
lerie protested. “Why should I be?” 

“Well, you saved his life, you know,” “Shoul- 
ders” reminded her, “and I kind of thought — ” 
Valerie wheeled around and faced him squarely. 
“Did Helen fall in love with you, just because she 
saved your life?” she demanded. “Monsieur 
Lathop is going to marry Miss Brooks, and I am 
very happy every time I think of it . ’ 9 

“Well, so much for that,” “Shoulders” replied, 
and then forgetting his bashfulness, he swept her 
suddenly off her feet and held her tight in his 
arms. ‘ ‘ I guess it doesn ’ t matter much anyway, ’ 9 
he said gently. “The main thing is — I love 
you, dear, and I want you to love me. You’re 
nothing but a baby, but I’ll wait till you grow 
up, and then — well, I want to take care of you, 
and — ” 


A THANKSGIVING IN FRANCE 209 

“Keep me from burning up in cow barns,’ ’ Va- 
lerie finished for him, and her voice was very soft 
as she added: “Oh, my big giant if you only 
will!” 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE TURKEY 

T HE great gong of the Chateau that rang 
for meals boomed out in the crisp air. 
“Shoulders” looked in the direction from 
which the sound came with an expression of anger 
and disgust. 

“That’s the first time I ever heard a call to eat 
when it wasn’t welcome,” he said ruefully. “I 
thought you told me we had a long time. ’ ’ 

Valerie smiled delightedly. “You are forget- 
ting that turkey,” she said. “Let’s hurry up or 
it will be all gone before we get there, with so 
many hungry Americans to eat it. ’ ’ 

They ran back as fast as they could, and the 
color in their cheeks, and the way Valerie’s hair 
was blown about might have aroused a just sus- 
picion that they had just come in from out of 
doors, had any one bothered to give them more 
210 


THE TURKEY 


211 


than a glance. But every one was too busy find- 
ing his place at the long table that reached from 
one end of the dining-hall to the other. 

Miss Brooks, Helen, Captain Webb, “Shoul- 
ders,” Valerie, and several other Americans were 
at one end of it. 

“I hope it’s the turkey end,” “Shoulders” 
said. 

“It is,” Miss Brooks replied, “but if you sit 
next to the turkey you are served last.” 

“Then I guess I’ll be leaving for the other end. 
There’s a place down there by Marieken that some 
one’s overlooked,” “Shoulders” laughed. 

“Oh, that’s for the doctor. We put him beside 
her because they get along so beautifully, though 
it is kind of hard on poor little Marieken.” 

“Hard? I don’t believe, when you think of 
what that youngster’s done, that there’s any task 
in the world too difficult for her,” Helen laughed, 
— “even taming cross doctors. I never can help 
wondering when I look at that great cross she 
wears, and then at her thin little shoulders.” 

“I know it’s hard to believe all that Captain 


212 


VALERIE DUVAL 


Blythe told us, isn’t it!” Miss Brooks replied; 
“and oh, that reminds me, I heard from Billy this 
week, and he tells me that he is learning to eat 
spaghetti like a true Italian, and that a little Ital- 
ian girl who lives up in Verona, who is — let’s see 
if I can remember the funny way he put it — oh, 
yes. ‘Who is — with apologies to your magazine 
of child wonders — always excepting little curly- 
haired Valerie, bless her — the real article. Her 
name is Lucia Rudini, and some day I’ll make 
your hair stand on end telling you about her. 
She ’s some child !’ ” 

“How exciting,” Helen said. “I think he was 
mean to leave us in suspense. Why didn’t he 
write more!” 

“Oh, he’s awfully busy, poor boy,” Miss Brooks 
explained. “And he is so enthusiastic over the 
plucky little Italians.” 

“Did he say anything about how things were go- 
ing along their front!” Captain Webb asked. 

“No, Billy’s always vague, but he tells me the 
war will last only three years more,” Miss Brooks 
replied. 


THE TURKEY 213 

Under cover of the noise “Shoulders” leaned 
over to Valerie. 

“Can you grow up in that time, do you think?” 

“For you, yes,” she replied very softly. 

“The turkey! He is come!” Captain Hilaire 
exclaimed from the other end of the table. “I 
tell you, I see him and I was right, just see how 
fat he is! Three cheers for the American day. 
Thanksgiving ! ’ 9 


THE END 











THE SOMEWHERE SERIES 

BY MARTHA TRENT 

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SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 

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SOMEWHERE IN ITALY 

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2 MARY JANE — HER VISIT 

3 MARY JANE’S KINDERGARTEN 

For sale at all bookstores or sent (postage prepaid) on receipt of price 
by publishers. 



BARSE & HOPKINS 
PUBLISHERS 


28 West 23rd Street 


New York 



THE POLLY PENDLETON SERIES 

BY DOROTHY WHITEHILL 

I 



Polly Pendleton is a resourceful, wide- 
awake American girl who goes to a board- 
ing school on the Hudson River some miles 
above New York. By her pluck and re- 
sourcefulness, she soon makes a place for 
herself and this she holds right through the 
course. The account of boarding school 
life is faithful and pleasing and will attract 
every girl in her teens. 


1 POLLY’S FIRST YEAR AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

2 POLLY’S SUMMER VACATION 

3 POLLY’S SENIOR YEAR AT BOARDING SCHOOL 

4 POLLY SEES THE WORLD AT WAR 

(Other volumes in preparation.) 

Cloth, Large 12mo., Illustrated, Per vol. 75 cents 

For sale at all bookstores or sent (postage paid) on receipt of price 
by the publishers. 


Publishers 


BARSE 6- HOPKINS 
28JWest 23rd Street 


New York 


CHARMING STORIES FOR GIRLS 

From eight to twelve years old 


THE CORNER HOUSE GIRLS SERIES 

BY GRACE BROOKS HILL. 


Four girls from eight to fourteen years 
of age receive word that a rich bachelor 
uncle has died, leaving them the old Cor- 
ner House he occupied. They move into 
it and then the fun begins. What they 
find and do will provoke many a hearty 
laugh. Later, they enter school and make 
many friends. One of these invites the 
girls to spend a few weeks at a bungalow 
owned by her parents and the adventures 
they meet with make very interesting 
reading. Clean, wholesome stories of 
humor and adventure, sure to appeal to all young girls. 

1 THE CORNER HOUSE GIRLS. 

2 THE CORNER HOUSE GIRLS AT SCHOOL. 

3 THE CORNER HOUSE GIRLS UNDER CANVAS. 

4 THE CORNER HOUSE GIRLS IN A PLAY. 

5 THE CORNER HOUSE GIRLS* ODD FIND. 

6 THE CORNER HOUSE GIRLS ON A TOUR. 

7 THE CORNER HOUSE GIRLS GROWING UP. 

(Other volumes in preparation) 

Cloth , Large 12mo., Illustrated, Per vol. 75 cents 

For sale at all bookstores or sent (postage paid) on receipt of price by 
the publishers. 



Publishers 


BARSE & HOPKINS 
. 28 West 23rd Street 


New York 


STORIES FOR CHILDREN 

(From four to nine years old) 

THE KNEETIME ANIMAL STORIES 

BY RICHARD BARNUM 



RICHARD BARNUM 


In all nursery literature animals have 
played a conspicuous part; and the reason 
is obvious for nothing entertains a child 
more than the antics of an animal. These 
stories abound in amusing incidents such 
as children adore and the characters are 
so full of life, so appealing to a child’s 
imagination, that none will be satisfied until 
they have met all of their favorites — 
Squinty, Slicko, Mappo, Turn Turn, etc. 


1 SQUINTY, THE COMICAL PIG. 

2 SLICKO, THE JUMPING SQUIRREL. 

3 MAPPO, THE MERRY MONKEY. 

4 TUM TUM, THE JOLLY ELEPHANT. 

5 DON, A RUNAWAY DOG. 

6 DIDO, THE DANCING BEAR. 

7 BLACKIE, A LOST CAT. 

8 FLOP EAR, THE FUNNY RABBIT. 

1 9 TINKLE, THE TRICK PONY. 

10 LIGHTFOOT, THE LEAPING GOAT. 

11 CHUNKY, THE HAPPY HIPPO. 

12 SHARP EYES, THE SILVER FOX. 

Cloth , Large 12mo., Illustrated, Per vol. SO cents 

For sale at all bookstores or sent (postage paid) on receipt of price by 
the publishers. 


Publishers 


BARSE & HOPKINS 
28 West 23rd Street 


New York 


THRILLING STORIES OF 

THE BIG EUROPEAN WAR 


THE BIG WAR SERIES 

( Trade Mark Registered ) 

BY ROSS KAY. 



The big European War, one of the greatest 
epoch-making events in the world’s history, 
has been chosen by one of the best-known 
writers of juvenile fiction as the scene of a 
series of thrilling stories of these stirring 
times. 

Not a description of battles, nor the study 
of strategical campaigns, but good whole- 
some fiction with a little of the historical in- 
terwoven. These are authentic, instructive 
and exciting narratives on the greatest war 
in history. 


THE SEARCH FOR THE SPY. 

THE AIR SCOUT. 

DODGING THE NORTH SEA MINES. 

WITH JOFFRE ON THE BATTLE LINE. 
FIGHTING IN FRANCE. 

BATTLING ON THE SOMME. 

(Other volumes in preparation) 

Cloth , Large 12mo. f Illustrated, Per vol. 75 cents 


For sale at all bookstores or sent (postage paid) on receipt of price by 
the publishers. 


Publishers 


BARSE & HOPKINS 
28 West 23rd Street 


New York 


“As Popular as the Game Itself” 
THE BIG LEAGUE SERIES 

( Trade Mark Registered ) 

BY BURT L. STANDISH. 


Endorsed by such stars of baseballdom 
as Christy Mathewson, Ty Cobb and Walter 
Johnson. 

An American boy with plenty of grit — 
baseball at its finest — and the girl in the case 
— these are the elements which compose 
the most successful of juvenile fiction. You 
don’t have to be a “fan” to enjoy these 
books; all you need to be is really human 
and alive with plenty of red blood in your 
veins. 

The author managed a “Bush League” team a number of 
years ago and is thoroughly familiar with the actions of 
baseball players on and off the field. Every American, young 
or old, who has enjoyed the thrills and excitement of our 
national game, is sure to read with delight these splendid 
stories of baseball and romance. 

1 LEFTY O’ THE BUSH. 

2 LEFTY O’ THE BIG LEAGUE. 

3 LEFTY O’ THE BLUE STOCKINGS. 

4 LEFTY O’ THE TRAINING CAMP. 

5 BRICK KING, BACKSTOP. 

6 THE MAKING OF A BIG LEAGUER. 

7 COURTNEY OF THE CENTER GARDEN. 

8 COVERING THE LOOK-IN CORNER. 

9 LEFTY LOCKE, PITCHER-MANAGER, 
io GUARDING THE KEYSTONE SACK. 

Cloth , Large 12mo„ Illustrated, Per vol, 75 cents 

For sale at all bookstores or sent (postage paid) on receipt of price by 
the publishers. 



Publishers 


BARSE & HOPKINS 
28 West 23rd Street 


New York 









